


baby, you're all that i want (nothin' can take you away from me)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Kidnapping, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 05:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19717315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: Even though it had been five months since they had figured it all out and had finally gotten together, Jack didn’t think he would ever get used to waking up with Mac. It felt absolutely perfect, warm and peaceful, Jack’s apartment completely quiet except for the soft noises Mac was making every time he exhaled.(Jack and Mac are already together when Jack gets called away on the hunt for Tiberius Kovacs. They're both determied to save their relationship and not let the distance break them apart... but that may turn out to be a little harder than expected)





	baby, you're all that i want (nothin' can take you away from me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImaGleekBaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaGleekBaby/gifts).



> Hello there!
> 
> So, here we are AGAIN, me and Sammy, bringing you a brand new fic... that's also the longest fic we've written together so far. Also, this fic is a birthday present for my darling Jodie - babe, I really hope you enjoy it ♥ I know your birthday was a few days ago, but still, we hope you like this belated little present. And let me tell you, both Sammy and I can't wait for you reaction.
> 
> The title is from the song "Heaven" by Bryan Adams.
> 
> We played a little with the events of season 3, so some parts are definitely not canon-compliant.

Feeling himself slowly waking up, Jack opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get himself more awake. Immediately, his vision was blocked by a blond mess of hair that was also tickling his nose, and Jack couldn’t help but smile. Mac’s back was pressed against his chest and Jack had his arm loosely wrapped around his middle, and he was still asleep judging by his slow breathing. Even though it had been five months since they had figured it all out and had finally gotten together, Jack didn’t think he would ever get used to waking up with Mac. It felt absolutely perfect, warm and peaceful, Jack’s apartment completely quiet except for the soft noises Mac was making every time he exhaled.

After a moment of just lying in silence, admiring the freckles on Mac’s shoulders, Jack heard Mac’s breathing change, and after a second he shifted, pressing himself even more into Jack. Mac stretched like a cat luxuriating in a patch of sunlight, a full-body thing that shouldn’t be as attractive as it was. His hand slid over Jack’s arm, and he linked their fingers, bringing Jack’s hand up to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of it. “Morning,” he mumbled around a yawn, and rolled over in Jack’s grasp so they were face-to-face, and Mac could kiss the corner of Jack’s lips next, slightly off-center. He had no idea exactly how much Jack loved him even though he said it all the time, because words were never going to be enough to describe the feeling.

Mac was all sleepy and pliant and absolutely adorable, and Jack couldn’t help it, and he leaned in, kissing the tip of Mac’s nose. “Mornin’, baby.” Jack smiled, pulling Mac even closer, his eyes trailing over the bruises he had left on Mac’s neck and collarbone last night before going back to Mac’s eyes, soft, blue and beautiful. “Can’t remember the last time we could sleep in.”

“That’s because I don’t think we’ve been able to sleep in since we got together,” Mac said, his hand coming up to cup Jack’s cheek, thumb skimming under his eye. He smiled that smile that seemed to only be for Jack, genuine but wide enough to bring out his dimples. “But it’s nice to not have to run and save the world every once in a while.”

“Mhm, true,” Jack muttered before leaning in and giving Mac a short, sweet kiss, smiling against his lips because he just couldn’t help it. “So, what do you wanna do today? I say we start with me making you pancakes for breakfast.” Jack grinned, kissing Mac’s nose again, his cheek and his chin before pecking his lips again, his hand slowly stroking Mac’s back.

“We _could_ start with pancakes,” Mac said, that smile on his face growing into a grin. He hooked a leg over Jack’s hip, and rolled them so he was lying on top of Jack, and if it hadn’t been obvious they were both still naked from last night’s exploits, it was now. He leaned in and gave Jack a kiss of his own, one that lingered, mischief visible in those pretty blue eyes. “Or we could start with something else.”

“Imp,” Jack muttered with a grin, pulling Mac down in another kiss, deep and slow, Mac’s tongue immediately slipping between Jack’s lips. Jack’s hands were exploring Mac’s back before he slid one hand to grope Mac’s ass, squeezing it playfully, and nipping on Mac’s bottom lip at the same time.

Mac let out a pleased little sigh through his nose, pushing into Jack’s touches as they continued to kiss, Mac eventually breaking away to plant kisses across Jack’s cheek and jaw, down to his neck. His hands skated over Jack’s shoulders, his sides, fingers squeezing at his hip possessively before moving lower and wrapping around his thigh. Sucking a bruise into Jack’s neck, Mac gripped his thigh tighter and hitched it up over his hip. They were both already half-hard and Mac rolled down his hips, making them both groan at the friction, their cocks brushing together in a perfect way. Jack’s fingers dug into Mac’s back, and he gasped when Mac bit down on his neck before moving lower to his collarbone. “So,” Mac started casually, nipping on Jack’s skin. “What do you want, babe?”

“Well, since you were so gracious last night, takin’ my cock so pretty like you always do…” Jack couldn’t help but grin when Mac faltered just a little, a shiver running through him when Jack’s fingers brushed over his entrance. He got right back to it though, licking over one of Jack’s nipples, and Jack was too turned on to be embarrassed when his voice cracked. “Maybe you’d be interested in fucking me?”

Jack felt Mac freeze above him, and then he lifted his head to look down at Jack with wide eyes, his grip on Jack’s thigh tightening. “That’s new,” Mac breathed out, his voice so low with arousal that it went straight to Jack’s dick. “You… you sure?” Mac’s hand squeezed Jack’s thigh again, but it seemed like he didn’t do it consciously, his blue eyes still full of both lust and surprise.

“Yep,” Jack said, bringing a hand up to card through Mac’s ridiculous amount of hair, tucking errant blond strands behind his ear. It was getting long again, and Jack thought it was cute. “Been thinking about it for a while now, actually.” Pretty much since he had seen Mac’s dick in a context that didn’t involve one or both of them being covered in some kind of gross and/or dangerous substance and needing to get their clothes off as quickly as possible. And Jack could see the answer in Mac’s face, feel it in the grip he had on Jack’s leg, but Jack liked to tease, just a little, so he asked causally, “Is that something you want?”

“Fuck, yes,” Mac groaned, and crashed their lips together in a hungry kiss, harder than the lazy kisses they had shared earlier. To make his point, Mac rolled his hips down again, biting on Jack’s bottom lip before reaching for the lube that was on the top of Jack’s nightstand, where Jack had tossed it before they had fallen asleep last night. Letting go of Jack’s thigh, Mac opened the lube and poured it on his fingers before sliding his hand lower to press his finger against Jack’s entrance, rubbing it teasingly.

Jack groaned against Mac’s lips, because it had been a while since he had done this, but he remembered how it felt – and with Mac’s long, skillful finger pushing into him, it was so much better. He moved it in and out, finding a rhythm quickly, and seemed to locate Jack’s prostate by accident when he added a second finger. “Christ, Mac,” Jack gritted out, pleasure spiking up his spine, fingers digging into Mac’s shoulders.

Mac moved his lips to press small kisses into Jack’s neck and shoulder, and he smirked against his skin. Scissoring his fingers, he nudged the same spot again a few times, and Jack moaned brokenly, pushing against Mac’s fingers. Biting down on Jack’s shoulder, Mac added a third finger, spreading them and groaning softly when Jack arched under him, clenching around his fingers. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Jack said, voice rough and broken, his tone clearly suggesting he didn’t mind dying under Mac’s lips and hands in the slightest. Mac’s fingers curled and twitched in response to that, jabbing his prostate _again,_ but Mac’s eyes were focused on Jack’s face, his lips parted just a little, the amazement and reverence in that expression enough to make Jack blush. “Now, you wanna keep playing around or you wanna get inside me already?”

A small smirk played on Mac’s lips as he leaned in to nip on Jack’s jaw. “Impatient,” he muttered before slipping his fingers out and kissing Jack again to swallow the whine Jack let out. Jack spread his legs even more, and Mac settled between them, reaching for the lube again when suddenly, he hesitated. “You wanna-“ Mac started, looking at Jack with lust blown eyes, almost black with want, and Jack could already tell what it was about. They had had the condom conversation a long time ago, but it had always been Mac who bottomed, so Mac probably wasn’t sure how Jack felt about going without when _he_ was the one getting fucked through the mattress which hopefully was exactly what Mac intended on doing to him.

Jack’s dark eyes went soft, because even when Mac was practically shaking with want, he was still thinking about Jack. “Nah,” Jack said, pressing a kiss to that perfectly sculpted jawline. “Just want to feel you.” And that was apparently good enough for Mac who pressed a kiss to Jack’s lips before he lubed himself up. Then he was pushing inside, slow and careful, and Jack gasped, Mac’s cock stretching him in the best way, and Jack had to force himself to breathe. Once Mac bottomed out, he stilled above Jack, bracing himself on one forearm and trembling with want while his other hand stroked Jack’s side, sliding lower back to his thigh. Just like before, Mac’s fingers gripped it tightly and hitched it up over his hip, but other than that he didn’t do anything, waiting for Jack to tell him it was okay.

Jack took a moment to get his shit together because _god_ , Mac felt good inside him, a pleasant fullness that Jack thought he could get used to pretty easily.. And he did as the seconds ticked by, and soon he was pulling Mac down for a kiss, messy and a little left-of-center, before he wrapped his arms around Mac’s neck. “You can move, darlin’.”

Exhaling shakily against Jack’s lips, Mac tightened his grip on Jack’s thigh and moved his hips, the first few thrusts careful and tentative. Jack’s lips parted as he gasped, his hands moving to grip Mac’s back, his fingers digging into his skin. Kissing his way down to Jack’s shoulder, Mac thrusted a little harder, a little deeper, and Jack moaned loudly when one of these harder thrusts nailed his prostate. “M’not gonna break, baby,” Jack said, shaky but sure, the amount of strength behind the rhythm of Mac’s hips enough to leave him breathless. In response, Mac gripped Jack’s thigh impossibly tight, and shoved his other arm under Jack’s back. This changed the angle, and they both moaned on the next thrust in, Jack’s hands scrabbling at Mac’s skin, no doubt leaving bruises.

Mac kind of lost it after that and was done holding himself back, because the next slam of his hips was hard enough to move Jack up on the bed a little, and then Mac was pounding into him, fast and hard, panting into Jack’s shoulder. Jack wasn’t bothering to keep in the noises he made, moaning loudly with each slam of Mac’s hips, crying out when Mac hit his prostate again and again. And somehow they came at almost the same time – Jack was first, one particularly harsh thrust grinding against him just right, and he lost it, come spurting up his abs, the muscles in his thigh twitching in Mac’s grip as he groaned out Mac’s name. Mac followed him over the edge a couple of thrusts later, spilling inside Jack, his hips giving these little involuntary twitches forward before he stilled, collapsing on top of Jack, because he just couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

Jack’s leg dropped down on the mattress once Mac let go of his thigh, and Jack wrapped his arms around Mac’s back as they both desperately tried to catch their breaths. “Holy shit,” Jack eventually said, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes before turning his head and pressing a kiss to Mac’s hair. “Good fucking morning to me indeed.”

“Mhmm,” Mac hummed, something that was probably agreement, he just couldn’t form words yet. He got his other arm underneath Jack and hugged him tight, tilting his head up to press his lips to Jack’s jaw. “I love you so much,” he said, his voice absolutely wrecked.

“I love you too.” Jack smiled, one of his hands slowly stroking Mac’s back. They lied in silence for a moment, their hearts slowly calming down and returning to normal. “I know I promised you breakfast, but you’re gonna have to give me a moment,” Jack eventually said, this time kissing Mac’s forehead, and when Mac looked up at him, Jack reached with his hand to brush the hair out of Mac’s eyes.

Mac smiled at him, that same warm, sunshine smile from earlier that never ceased to melt Jack’s heart. “Did I wear you out, old man?” he teased, poking Jack in the ribs and laughing at the face Jack made in response to those words. “God, I’m kidding, you know that.” He leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips before pulling out carefully and flopping over on his back next to Jack. “I’m not sure I can walk, so I’ll wait as long as you want for breakfast.”

“Look who’s worn out now,” Jack teased before glancing down at his chest that was covered with come, and he winced. “I guess a shower would be a good idea,” Jack sighed and after a moment, once he was sure his body was responding to the commands coming from his brain, Jack pushed himself up and got out of the bed, looking over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom. “You comin’ or what?”

Mac rolled himself out of bed and followed Jack into the bathroom. “You know I never pass up a chance to see you naked and wet,” he said, and Jack had never really thought of Mac being like this before they had gotten together, all joking and dirty mouthed. Jack turned on the water, and while they were waiting for it to warm up, Mac pressed himself up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jack from behind, pressing kisses along the tops of his shoulders. “You make me really happy. You know that, right?”

Jack’s heart fluttered stupidly, and there was this pleasant warmth spreading through his chest. “It’s always nice to hear since your happiness is all I want,” Jack said, turning his head to look at Mac. “For the record, you make me really happy too.” Jack smiled when Mac leaned over his shoulder to press their lips together. “What brought this on?”

Mac shrugged as they stepped into the shower together, which was just barely big enough for the two of them to fit in without risking grievous injury. “Well, I’ve been thinking… Bozer keeps talking about moving in with Leanna, and… maybe… would you want to move in with me?” He shifted a little, like he was nervous, but the tone of his voice was firm, indicating he had been thinking about it for a while.

Jack smiled widely and wrapped his arms around Mac’s waist. “I would love to,” he said, leaning in and kissing Mac softly, but he still couldn’t stop smiling, so the kiss didn’t really work too well. “You get kinda cute when you get nervous,” Jack teased against Mac’s lips, and Mac punched his arm.

They did actually take a shower, although there was some kissing and touching involved that was not strictly useful when it came to getting clean. When they made it back out into the bedroom, the only thing Mac pulled on was one of Jack’s oversized, worn out Texas Rangers t-shirts – no boxers underneath it, nothing. And then, while Jack was staring at him with his mouth hanging open, he fucking _winked_ and walked out to the kitchen. You would think Jack would have gotten used to Mac pulling shit like that after five months of dating him, but no, Mac being a little shit still made Jack’s jaw drop.

After putting on a pair of sweatpants, Jack shook his head with a small laugh, and followed Mac to the kitchen, wrapping an arm around him and kissing the back of his neck before letting him go and opening the fridge to get the ingredients for pancakes. Mac lingered around, but he knew better than try to help – no one wanted Jack’s kitchen to get burned down after all. Instead, he hopped on the counter and watched Jack work, mixing up pancakes batter and throwing bacon into a pan. He swung his legs a little and Jack could see him rubbing the new scar he had on his right thigh from when he had gotten shot a few weeks before during that fatal survival camping trip with Riley and Bozer. Jack still felt a pang of guilt whenever he thought about it since Mac had gotten shot while he had been babysitting Matty’s ex with her, but Mac was fine now, so there was no point in dwelling on that.

At least that was what Mac had told him, repeatedly, after Jack had tried to apologize for not having his back.

The way Mac kept rubbing the scar meant his thigh probably ached a little, but to be honest, after their… activities it was to be expected since Mac might have overdone it a bit. Trusting Mac to tell him if anything was truly wrong, Jack started telling Mac some story about his Delta buddies and was halfway done with the pancakes when, suddenly, his phone pinged and buzzed with a text. Both of their phones were lying on the kitchen table and Jack frowned when Mac’s phone stayed silent – usually when there was an emergency at the Phoenix or a new mission, they both got a text, and Jack hadn’t really expected anyone to try and contact him on his day off. Glancing at the pans, Jack stepped away to grab his phone and then went back to watch over the pancakes while he unlocked the screen. The second he saw the picture he had just received, he instantly froze, but somehow he managed to remember to turn off the stove, his eyes still fixed on the phone.

Swallowing harshly, Jack stared at the picture, at the face that he had thought he would never see again, feeling as if he had just seen a ghost.

* * *

Mac was rubbing away the ache in the new scar he had gotten on his leg weeks ago, but he didn’t miss the way Jack tensed up when he checked his phone. “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning a little, reaching out with his free hand to check his own phone… and his frown deepened when he saw he hadn’t gotten any texts or calls. “Is it work?”

“Not… exactly,” Jack said quietly, his voice serious in a way it rarely got, and it instantly set off the alarm bells in Mac’s head. What was even worse, Jack just… leaned against the counter, his whole body sagging, and he still hadn’t looked away from the phone, and now Mac was officially concerned.

Mac slid off the counter and approached him, pressing himself against Jack’s side and getting a look at the phone’s screen. There was a picture of an unhappy looking guy, probably Eastern European, and whoever he was, Jack obviously knew him and not in a good way. Mac studied the photo and then Jack’s expression, and drew his own conclusion. “Somebody from your CIA days?”

Jack took a deep breath, his hand clutching the phone so tightly it was a miracle it didn’t break. “Yeah, yeah, it’s…” Jack started before putting the phone away and closing his eyes for a moment, running his hand over his face. “That’s… Tiberius Kovacs. Hungarian dude, bad news.” Jack was staring ahead as he talked, his body tense. “Years ago I led a team that was tasked with… with taking him out,” Jack said quietly, reluctantly, and Mac knew it was because Jack didn’t like to talk about his CIA missions too much in fear of Mac finding out about some of the things Jack had done in his life – even though Mac already _knew_ , but Jack had a hard time accepting that.

Mac slid his arm through Jack’s and linked his fingers around Jack’s elbow. “So if you killed him, then why is somebody sending you his picture?” And Mac talked about this like he would about anything else, serious but not judgmental, not in the slightest, his eyes and voice full of worry.

“I pulled the trigger myself,” Jack said, barely audible, finally glancing back at Mac. “But, Mac… he didn’t look like in this picture.” Jack gestured at the phone before looking back at Mac. “He looked… younger.” Jack took a deep breath. “This picture I got? That’s recent.”

“That… doesn’t make any sense,” Mac said slowly. “Could someone have tampered with a photo of him to make him look older? I’m sure there’s a lot of people who would try and use him to draw you out into the open.” His grip on Jack’s arm tightened unconsciously, like somebody was going to bust into the apartment and try and take him away.

“I don’t know, Mac,” Jack sighed, rubbing his face with his hand again. “I guess it’s up to our tech wizards at the Phoenix to figure it out. Which means I should probably call Matty,” Jack said, but he didn’t move or reach for his phone. In fact, he actually leaned into Mac, only slightly, and once again not looking at him, but Mac noticed it anyway.

He brushed a kiss against Jack’s cheek, which got him a look at him. “Talk to me?” he asked quietly, because clearly this Kovacs guy had gotten under Jack’s skin in a bad way – and not just because he was supposed to be dead and wasn’t. “What’s going on in your head?”

“Kovacs was… bad news, like I said. Mac, there was a reason why we were sent to take him out instead of capturing him,” Jack sighed. “He did a lot of awful things, killed many innocent people. Including a few family members of the agents hunting him over the years,” Jack said quietly. “One of the guys from my team… his wife ended up in the hospital in critical condition. She pulled through, but it was a close call.” Swallowing harshly, Jack closed his eyes. “I pulled the trigger myself, but if he’s… if he’s alive-“

“If he’s alive, we have to take him down,” Mac interjected, because he had been expecting that. “Of course, man, that’s not a question. We can start working leads, get the team on board… what?” He stopped talking when Jack looked at him, an alarming mixture of love and pain in his eyes that suggested Mac was not going to like whatever Jack said next. “What’s with that look?”

“Mac, if Kovacs is still alive…” Jack started, but paused, a slightly wild look in his eyes that Mac immediately didn’t like. “You know what, all of that doesn’t matter if that picture is fake,” Jack eventually said, swallowing harshly again, barely looking at Mac, and Mac could see that that wasn’t what Jack had intended to say in the first place. Before he could call him out on it though, Jack stepped out of his arms, grabbing his phone to call Matty, and when she answered, he quickly updated her on everything that had happened. Mac was watching him worriedly, and once Jack hung up, he took a deep breath and looked at Mac. “I gotta go to the Phoenix,” he said quietly. “I know it’s our day off, so you don’t have to-“

Mac was already shaking his head before Jack even finished talking. “I’m not just gonna sit here while you deal with this, Jack. I’ll come with you.”

After a moment of hesitation, Jack eventually nodded, and while they both headed to Jack’s bedroom to get dressed, Mac did his best to ignore the very bad feeling spreading through his body.

* * *

Once they got dressed, they headed to the Phoenix, and Jack’s thoughts were a wandering mess. He had chickened out when Mac had said they would take Kovacs out, he had been too much of a coward to tell Mac that if Kovacs was still alive, Mac needed to stay as far away from that mess as possible, because Jack would be damned if he let Kovacs anywhere close to Mac. Jack should have told him, he should have told him right away, but he had been too afraid of Mac’s reaction, and now, as they were walking into the war room, Jack prayed to every deity he had ever heard of that the photo of Kovacs was fake.

Unfortunately, no such luck.

As it turned out, Matty had already sent the photo down to the lab for authentication… and it was real. Riley had even run an image search for Kovacs and had found more pictures of him taken on the same day. “I’m sorry, Jack,” Matty said, once they were all together in the war room. “But it looks like Kovacs is alive. Several other agents who were involved in the original op to take him down got the same picture, and their respective agencies reached the same conclusion as us.”

Jack sighed, running his hand over his face. He stared at the floor for a moment before looking up and meeting Matty’s serious gaze. “Could you give me and Matty a sec?” Jack asked quietly, and while everyone left, Jack could see Mac lingering. “Mac, please?” Jack said, his voice sounding tired and resigned, and after a second Mac left as well. “Matty, I-“ Jack started, but Matty raised her hand, cutting him off.

“Way ahead of you, Jack,” she said, handing him a tablet with some files on it. “There’s a strike team being put together, top agents from various agencies, preferably ones that have previous experience with Kovacs.” Taking a deep breath, Matty looked at Jack and something soft crossed her expression, and Jack was not used to that. “They want you to lead that team.”

Jack had been expecting to hear that, but it was still like a punch to the gut. He flicked through the files, recognizing some of the names and faces from previous ops. He was busy reading and only half-listening when Matty spoke again: “I can probably pull some strings and get Mac added to the strike team. He doesn’t have the experience with Kovacs, but we both know how good he is at improvising.”

The second Jack heard Mac’s name, he almost dropped the tablet. “No.” The word was out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying. “Matty, no.” Jack’s eyes were wide and he clenched the tablet to stop his hands from shaking, Matty looking at him in surprise. “Please, I… I can’t have him anywhere near Kovacs.”

Matty came closer, concerned. “Jack… you know he’s going to want to go with you, right?” she said, and her tone was almost… gentle, at least for Matty. “And unless you can come up with a very compelling reason to make him stay here, you’re probably going to find yourself with a stowaway.”

And Jack knew that, he had already seen it in Mac’s behavior back in his apartment. Hell, probably the entire team would want to work on finding Kovacs as well, and Jack couldn’t let that happen. He knew they all put themselves in danger all the time, Mac especially, but Kovacs was an entirely new level of evil. “Can’t you just… order him to stay here? Tell him the Phoenix needs him?” Jack asked weakly, plopping down on one of the chairs, the tablet hanging limply from his hand.

“I can try that,” Matty said, and she sat on the coffee table so they were face to face. Behind her was Mac’s bowl of paperclips, sitting there, taunting Jack. “But he might not listen, especially with the recent change in your relationship status.” Jack’s head snapped up, shock written all over his face – even though it had been five months, the only person that knew about them getting together was Bozer, simply because otherwise it would have been too difficult to explain why Jack had suddenly started sleeping in Mac’s bedroom – and Matty just rolled her eyes. “Jack, how long have we known each other? Give me some credit.”

Jack closed his eyes with a pained expression on his face. “He never listens to any orders,” he said quietly, mostly to himself. Setting the tablet aside, Jack fiddled with his fingers, staring at the bowl of paperclips. “After… years we finally figured it out a few months ago, and now… now I’m gonna lose him because of this.” Jack gestured in the general direction of the screen where the photo of Kovacs was still displayed. “I promised I’d never leave him, Matty, what am I supposed to do?” And maybe usually Jack would have been surprised that he was opening up like that, and to Matty, but right now he didn’t care.

“You tell him the truth,” Matty said, glancing back at the screen to study Kovacs’ face for a moment. “You tell him that you’re scared if he comes along you’re going to lose him. You tell him you’re afraid that if he sees what you used to be, you’ll lose him. You tell him that the _world_ needs him, not just the Phoenix – that there’s nobody else who could do what he does but him.” She put a hand on Jack’s knee. “And you find somebody to protect him while you’re gone. Somebody who’s just as good as you.”

Jack’s vision started blurring and he blinked a few times to stop the tears from falling. “Thanks, Matty,” he said quietly before standing up and taking a deep breath. Bracing himself, he walked out of the war room, and there was Mac, sitting on the stairs and clearly waiting for him.

The second he saw Jack, he stood up, his blue eyes full of concern, but also uncertainty. “Jack?”

“Mac, I…” The words died in Jack’s throat, and the next thing he knew, he was taking two quick strides toward Mac and pulling him into a tight hug – probably too tight, but fuck it. Mac returned the embrace immediately, his hair tickling Jack’s cheek, and Jack buried his face in that hair and tried to memorize Mac’s smell, sunshine and ozone and laundry detergent. Because after they had this conversation… Mac probably wouldn’t want what they had anymore, and even if he did, Jack could be gone for weeks… or months… or longer.

“Jack?” Mac asked after a moment, hugging him tightly, and god, he sounded _scared_. “Jack, what’s going on?” Mac tried again after a moment, sounding worried and afraid, and Jack couldn’t take it. He was the reason Mac sounded like that and it was only about to get even worse.

Taking in a shaky breath, Jack pulled away, looking into Mac’s eyes, blue and wide, and Jack felt his heart crack. “Mac, we… we need to talk.”

Mac took Jack’s hand, any attempt at keeping their relationship out of their jobs officially out the window. “Come on,” he muttered, and they walked a little ways down the hall before finding an empty conference room. The lights popped on automatically when they walked in, and Mac shut and locked the door behind them, tapping the windows to make them frost over. He hadn’t let go of Jack’s hand, and still didn’t even as he leaned against the edge of the conference table. “You’re kind of freaking me out, Jack. Talk to me.”

Jack leaned against the table next to Mac and he stared down at their joined hands. “I’m… they’re putting together a team to find Kovacs,” Jack started slowly, rubbing Mac’s hand with his thumb. “And… and they want me to lead it,” Jack sighed, not daring look at Mac. “There’s no telling how long it will take, could be weeks, could be months-“

“And you don’t want me to come with you,” Mac said, which made Jack’s head snap up to look at him. The expression on Mac’s face was… hard to read, which was odd, because usually Jack had zero trouble reading Mac like a book. Mac chewed on his lip for a moment before making a frustrated sound, shaking his head and glancing away. “I don’t get it, Jack – we’ve gone up against terrible people before. How is this any different?”

“Because I’m terrified, Mac,” Jack said quietly, thinking about what Matty had told him, and this time Mac’s head snapped up and he looked at Jack with wide eyes. For Jack to admit so openly he was scared? That was so rare that no wonder Mac was surprised. “I’m scared you’ll get hurt and I’m going to lose you. And I’m…” Jack hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. “For this mission I’ll have to… go back to what I used to be. Become the person I used to be.” Jack squeezed Mac’s hand impossibly tight. “I’m scared that if you see… _that_ , I’ll lose you.”

Keeping his hand in Jack’s, Mac shifted so he was in front of him, the fingers of his other hand coming up to touch Jack’s cheek. It was not meant to get Jack to look at him, it was more like reassurance. “I’m not naïve, Jack,” he said quietly. “I know what you used to do, and I know why you don’t like to talk about it. But I refuse to believe that that version of you could love me any less than you do.”

“Every version of me loves you more than anything,” Jack said right away, leaning into Mac’s touch and looking into Mac’s eyes. “That’s why I need you to stay here. Here where you’re safe – well, safer than out there with me.” Jack gave Mac a shaky smile, reaching to tug a strand of hair behind his ear. “The world needs you, baby. And I refuse to drag you into this mess.”

Mac’s eyes searched Jack’s face for a moment, and whatever he saw there made him nod – a slow, reluctant motion, and it was less agreement and more acceptance. “I don’t like this,” he said, letting go of Jack’s hand now so he could wrap his arms around his neck. “Actually, I hate it. A lot. But…” he sighed, his eyes cutting away again. “If I’m gone from the Phoenix, that leaves our job up to Riley and Bozer and Leanna, and that’s not fair either.”

Since Mac was not pushing Jack away, at least not yet, Jack hesitantly wrapped his arms around his waist. “I hate it too, Mac, but… I have to go. I have to fix this.” Jack tilted his head to catch Mac’s gaze, hoping to make him understand. And then Jack braced himself, knowing there was another thing he needed to say, even though he was terrified of Mac’s answer. But Jack didn’t have any right to hold Mac back. “Mac, it’s… like I said, I have no idea how long I’ll be gone. So I understand if you… don’t wanna wait for me. I can’t expect you to-“

“Marry me,” Mac blurted out, cutting Jack off and shocking him into silence. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a silvery object. It took Jack a second to recognize it as a ring… made from paperclips, a placeholder for something else. “There’s nobody else I want, Jack. I’ll wait as long as I have to. But when you come back to me – and you _will_ come back to me – I want to marry you,” he paused, hesitating. “If… if that’s something you want too, I mean.”

Jack stared at Mac with wide eyes, his gaze shifting between Mac and the ring a couple of times before he pulled Mac into a tight hug. “Yes, of course,” he breathed out against Mac’s hair, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from flowing. “Mac, I’m… _yes_.” Jack felt Mac exhale shakily before his lips pressed into his temple.

Mac let out this breathless little laugh, and Jack wondered if he had been afraid Jack would have said no. “That… was not how I was planning on asking you at all,” he admitted, hugging Jack back. When they leaned back, it wasn’t far, and Jack got a better look at the ring. It was made from several paperclips braided together so they couldn’t come undone, and just from looking at it, it seemed like it wasn’t made to fit on Jack’s finger… but on the chain for his dog tags. “I might’ve thrown this together while you were talking to Matty, but I’ve been thinking about asking for a while now.”

“You’ve just asked me to move in with you,” Jack chuckled weakly, ignoring the way his heart broke when he realized he wouldn’t be moving in with Mac anytime soon. “And you just… you just decided to make this while I was talking to Matty? Just because?” Jack asked, his eyes fixed on the ring as he wondered if Mac had maybe suspected this was how everything was going to end. Otherwise, why would he have the ring ready?

“It’s entirely possible that I’m trying to monopolize all your time,” Mac joked, but Jack could tell he wasn’t really joking. He sighed and rubbed the pieced of metal sitting in his palm with his thumb. “I thought you might want me to stay here, and the more I thought about it, I didn’t like it, but it makes sense. I just… I didn’t want to let you go without asking, in case… well, you know how our lives are.”

Jack’s heart cracked for what felt like the umpteenth time. Wrapping his one hand around Mac’s palm and the ring, he used his other arm to pull Mac closer and press their lips together. “I’ll do my absolute best to come back to you,” Jack muttered against Mac’s lips, feeling one tear roll down his cheek. “I swear to you, Mac.”

“You better,” Mac replied, his voice cracking even as his free hand came up to hold Jack’s face again, thumbing away that tear. He smiled a little but it was brittle and shaky. “Or I’ll have to come get you, and we both know how pissed I’ll be.”

Pulling Mac in another kiss, Jack focused on the feeling of Mac’s lips against his, and the warmth of his body, and he did his best to ignore the ache spreading through his chest. Pressing himself even closer to Mac, he tightened his arm around him when he felt Mac tremble a little, and while he wasn’t much of a believer, not anymore, in that moment he prayed.

He prayed that he survived this and came back to Mac.

* * *

“Hey, Mac, you coming?” Bozer’s voice brought Mac out of his thoughts. They had just finished debriefing after their latest mission and while everyone was exhausted and more than ready to go home, Mac really didn’t feel like it. He didn’t feel like hanging out, and he didn’t feel like being at the house by himself either. He had been missing Jack even more than usually, and not for the first time Mac thought that he would have given anything to hear Jack’s voice. Jack wasn’t allowed to contact them too often, only an occasional email here and there, but it had been a while since Jack had made contact – the last time had been around two months ago, and it was driving Mac insane.

“Come on, Mac – I’m buying the beers, remember?” Desi said with a grin, one that had been showing up more and more lately. Desiree Nguyen had been a shock to the system when she had first arrived, and Mac had felt… _something_ , some kind of spark, he wasn’t afraid to admit that, and that was what had prompted him to tell the rest of the team about his and Jack’s relationship. That had turned out to be a joke, though, because Bozer and Matty had already known, and his dad, Riley, and Leanna had suspected it. Then Desi had informed him that Jack had told her he and Mac were an item when he had called to ask her for “the biggest favor ever, Jack owes me for the rest of his life”, and Mac had to wonder if his observational skills needed a tune up.

“You know what, guys? I’m not really up for beers tonight,” Mac said, levering himself out of his chair and stifling a yawn that he didn’t have to fake. If he was going to mope over Jack, he wanted to do it in private… in his very empty house that was cluttered with Jack’s furniture and countless moving boxes. That was what the email two months ago had been about – Jack’s lease was going to be up, so he had needed them to move his stuff, and it had only seemed natural to bring it to Mac’s place.

Riley gave him a sympathetic look and patted his shoulder. “Well, you know where to find us,” she said as they headed for the elevator, and Mac decided he would take the stairs to the garage. He had taken to driving himself to work in Jack’s car, which he would get hell for at some point, but he found it… comforting, in a weird way. “Have a good weekend, Mac.”

The drive back home didn’t take as long as usually – it was late and the traffic wasn’t that bad, plus time passed much quicker when Mac got lost in his head which had been happening way more often since Jack had left. His thoughts drifted to Jack whenever he had a minute of some free time, and Mac knew that wasn’t healthy, that he might be a bit obsessed – but he was worried, he couldn’t help it. And he missed Jack so much it hurt.

Once the car was parked in his garage (Mac had cleaned it out right after Jack had left, so that he would have a place to keep Jack’s car – Jack loved it too much for it to be outside all the time), Mac stepped outside for a moment instead of going into the house right away. It was dark already and it was almost completely quiet – the neighborhood was peaceful, and not for the first time Mac wished it wasn’t so silent. The house had never been quiet when Jack had been around, and Mac missed that. He missed these little sounds and noises that made him feel like he was home. Because right now his house was just that – a house. It wasn’t home, not with Jack miles and oceans away.

Mac shut his eyes for a moment and just breathed… and that was when he heard it. It was the slightest sound, somewhere over by the metal trash cans he kept around the side of the garage, and all his senses were immediately on high alert. The hair on the back of his neck and arms rose, and he grabbed a shovel from the garage before going around the corner to confront… a raccoon? It stared at him with wide reflective eyes, an apple core caught in its little hands. Mac lowered the shovel and chuckled a little at his own paranoia – living alone for the first time in twenty-eight years was driving him nuts, apparently. The raccoon scurried off a moment later, and Mac turned to head back into the house – and got punched in the face, _hard_ , by someone wearing leather gloves. The hit exploded behind his eyes and dazed him immediately, meaning his reflexive swing of the shovel in his attacker’s direction was weak and easily blocked.

Before Mac could get a grip and fight back, his attacker kneed him in his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. Mac managed to get a punch into the guy’s abdomen, but he was still too dazed from the first hit and he went down to his knees when the attacker punched him again. And then there were fingers in his hair, tugging his head backwards… and Mac felt something sharp against his neck, a needle, his clouded mind supplied, but by then it was already too late, and whatever he had been injected with was already affecting him as Mac slowly lost his grip on consciousness, blinking and trying to stay awake, but eventually slipping away.

* * *

When Mac woke up, he had no idea how much time had passed or where he was, which had been no doubt the point of the drugs. His face hurt and so did his stomach, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with. The room he was in was dark, and he was strapped to some kind of… metal table? He could feel belts around his wrists and ankles to keep him restrained, and when he tried to break them they didn’t budge an inch. He was also naked, which was probably the most uncomfortable part of all this.

The lights in the room snapped on, revealing something that looked almost like a doctor’s office… almost. “Mr. MacGyver,” a voice said from the doorway, and it was one he didn’t recognize, the accent Eastern European. “So good to see you are awake.”

After a second, the owner of the voice came in closer, and the moment Mac could see his face, he recognized the man immediately. Because right there, in front of him, was Tiberius Kovacs, the one and only. Mac didn’t bother trying to pretend he didn’t recognize him since Kovacs clearly somehow knew who Mac was, and Mac knew it was no coincidence that he had gotten kidnapped by him. “I hear you’re a hard man to find,” Mac gritted out, trying not to think what Kovacs wanted and had planned for him.

Kovacs chuckled a little, stepping closer still, until he was standing next to Mac. He was not all that intimidating to look at, but Mac had read everything he could about the man, and he knew looks were extremely deceiving. “And I suppose you heard that from Jack Dalton?” Kovacs asked, and his tone was surprisingly conversational, like they were just two buddies having a chat. He reached for something beyond Mac’s field of vision, behind his head, and pulled it into view – an instrument tray, with a whole bunch of tools on it that Mac didn’t want anywhere near his body. “A very interesting man, that one. Death wearing a smile. I suppose we have that in common.”

“You’re nothing alike,” Mac hissed, he couldn’t help it. Besides, he was pretty sure that it didn’t matter what he said, his situation was not going to get any better, especially judging by the evil glint in Kovacs’ eyes. It wouldn’t hurt to try though and since Mac couldn’t do anything else besides talking, he did exactly that. “How did you know who I was? And how did you find me?” Mac was very interested in the answer to these questions, because Kovacs shouldn’t have been able to connect Jack to him or the Phoenix.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on Jack Dalton for many years now, ever since he almost succeeded in killing me.” Kovacs undid the first two buttons on the shirt he was wearing and pulled it aside enough so Mac could see a nasty scar that ran right next to his heart; Jack’s bullet must have just barely missed killing him. “He is the only one who has ever come that close, and I found that… interesting. The company he keeps is also quite eclectic.” Kovacs began rolling up his sleeves to the elbows, and Mac knew that whatever was coming next was going to be ugly. “I thought about taking Ms. Davis, but once I parsed out what _your_ relationship to Dalton was… well, you were the obvious choice.” He clasped his hands together once, suddenly enough to startle Mac. “And because of your intellect and your excellent track record, I will give you one opportunity to answer this question without pain: where is Jack Dalton now?”

Despite the very shitty situation he was in, Mac couldn’t help but feel relieved that Kovacs hadn’t decided to grab Riley instead of him. “How would I know?” Mac answered, and if he could have, he would have shrugged. “Haven’t seen him in nine months. But even if I knew where he was…” Mac narrowed his eyes, glaring at Kovacs. “I’d never tell you.” Mac was also aware that even if he had told Kovacs everything he wanted to know, Kovacs would have still made it painful. So really, Mac had no other choice but to brace himself for whatever was coming.

Kovacs chuckled again, nimble fingers reaching for a scalpel that looked razor sharp and shined under the lights. “Your tenacity is admirable, Mr. MacGyver, as is your loyalty.” He twirled the scalpel in his fingers, but stopped abruptly. “Unfortunately, it won’t get you very far in this instance. Tell me, do you know what _lingchi_ is? It is a Chinese method of torture and execution that was very popular until it was outlawed – you might know it better as death by one thousand cuts.” He smiled, a twisted, empty thing, and Mac saw the monster described in those files. “I suppose we’ll gave to see if it really takes a thousand cuts to kill you.”

* * *

“Alright, fellas,” Jack said to his team while they were getting ready for hopefully their last raid. “This is it. All of our leads say that Kovacs is in that building. It’s time to finally take the son of a bitch out.” Checking his weapons, Jack was praying to every god he could think of for Kovacs to actually be there. It had been nine months, nine long months since he had been home, since he had seen Mac, and Jack missed him, more than anything in the world. The ring Mac had given him was securely hanging on the chain around his neck along with his dog tags, and while Jack was nervous about going back, and maybe worried about Mac changing his mind, he still missed him every damn day. “I don’t know about you, boys, but I’m more than ready to get back home.”

One of the strike team guys Jack hadn’t known all that well before this had started was a huge dude with a red beard named Jameson, like the whiskey. He nodded along to what Jack was saying and pulled out a well-worn picture of a pregnant woman smiling for the camera. “I can’t wait to get back to Denise,” he said. “It’s killing me not knowing if she’s had the baby yet.”

Another guy, Devers, also pulled out a picture, this one of him with another man, both of them mugging for the camera. “I feel you, man. I miss Cameron more than anything – I heard of newlywed blues, but I don’t think this is what people mean when they say that.”

Reaching for the small pocket in his bulletproof vest, Jack took out a picture of Mac, and he couldn’t help but smile softly. Mac was grinning into the camera, his hair a mess, and it made Jack’s heart flutter. He also had a picture of Riley tucked away in his vest, but right now he needed Mac and his smile to give him hope that all of this was going to end soon. “Hey, Earth to Dalton,” Martinez called out teasingly, and when Jack’s head snapped up, everybody was grinning at him.

“Oh, shut up.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Let’s go get him, so we can get back home, shall we?”

The allure of home was awfully strong, especially since they were only a few hours away from Los Angeles in Denver, Colorado. This was about the last place Jack had expected the hunt to lead, but he wasn’t complaining – it meant he would get back to Mac that much more quickly. So they rolled out, breaching the building, and it appeared to be some kind of abandoned doctor’s office, probably closed during the recession and never reopened. And almost right after they were inside, a blood-curling scream filled the building, rattling off the walls and ringing in their ears.

Jack froze because… no, it couldn’t be. For a second Jack had thought that that scream had sounded familiar, but it was impossible, it had sounded from too far away to actually recognize the voice of whoever was screaming, and Jack must have been so homesick that he was hearing things. Forcing himself to focus, Jack gestured to his team to split up, Jameson leading two other guys in the direction of the screaming, and Jack led the other two deeper into the building. Unfortunately, the element of surprise flew out the window when they stumbled into some armed guys, who started shooting immediately, but Jack didn’t mind – it meant they were in the right place. They took care of them quickly, and Jack didn’t miss the fact that no one was screaming anymore – whoever had been torturing that poor soul must have run once they had heard the gunshots.

Jack’s comm crackled in his ear. “Dalton,” Jameson said, slightly out of breath. “We got him, we got Kovacs.” He didn’t sound nearly as happy as he should, and before worry for one of the other strike team members could bubble into Jack’s throat, he continued. “He was trying to run, Martinez cut him down, but Jack – you need to get in here.” Jameson took another breath, and what he said next made Jack’s blood freeze in his veins. “I think we found your fiancé.”

For a second Jack could only hear white noise in his ears and he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, but then he was running, heedless of any danger or other goons being around, Devers and Romero following him without a doubt. Jack didn’t think he had ever run as fast as he did now, barely remembering the direction in which Jameson and the guys had gone in, but he figured it out. Bursting through the door to the room he thought they were all in, Jack froze when he got inside, and his eyes fell on the table in the center of the room.

One of the guys had had the forethought to put their tac jacket over Mac’s lower body, because he was very obviously naked. They had also undone the restraints that had been around his ankles and wrists, and Devers – who is the closest thing they had to a medic – was scouring the cabinets for bandages, because there was blood… _everywhere_. Mac was littered with cuts all over his body, on his arms, legs, chest… even his face. Some were only an inch or two long, others were a foot or more. He was conscious, but barely, glassy eyes staring at the ceiling.

It took about two seconds for Jack to snap out of it, and he rushed to Mac’s side. “Mac, baby?” Jack choked out, his hands hovering above Mac’s body, because he honestly didn’t know if there was any spot that he could touch without causing Mac more pain. Jack was aware of the team watching him, save for Devers who was still looking for some supplies, and Martinez who Jack presumed was holding Kovacs down somewhere. Jack could feel his eyes fill with tears, and he couldn’t care less when he realized the tears were already rolling down his cheeks. “Mac?”

Mac’s eyes widened when they locked on Jack’s face. He made this little sound, confused and full of pain. “Jack?” he whispered, and when one of his pale, trembling hands reached for him Jack took it in both of his own. “Is that… are you really here?” Devers, meanwhile, had found what he had been looking for, and was muttering to himself as he put pressure on one of the worst cuts, which ran up the inside of Mac’s thigh. The muttering, Jack realized distantly, was probably him calling for a medical evacuation.

Mac yelped in pain when Devers put pressure on the cut, squeezing his eyes shut, and now that his wrists and ankles weren’t tied to the table, he tried curling in himself, but that only seemed to hurt him more. “Shh, shh, I’m here,” Jack tries soothing him, holding Mac’s hand tightly before moving one of his hands to gently cup Mac’s face, trying to avoid the cuts. “You’re gonna be fine, baby, just hang on, alright?” Jack had to swallow around the lump in his throat, the tears still falling as he bit back a sob. “Can you… can you tell me what happened?” Usually talking to Mac while he was hurt helped, but Jack had never seen him so hurt before, and he didn’t know if Mac wasn’t too far gone to be distracted by a conversation.

Mac squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, tears falling from them. His hands twitched in Jack’s like he wanted to squeeze it back, but didn’t have the strength. “Kovacs… took me from the house,” he whispered. Now that Jack was looking closer, he could see that one side of Mac’s face was bruised, like someone had punched him, and there was a raised welt on his neck – an injection mark. “He drugged me with something… and I woke up here.” He raised his head a little to look at Devers and said, “There’s… there are some on my back too. I think that’s where I’m…” he paused, breathing harshly, clearly trying to keep it together. “That’s where most of the bleeding is happening. He wanted it to be… slow, once he realized I wasn’t going to tell him anything.”

Devers swore a little and started to ask, “How did he get to your back if you were lying on the… oh god.” His eyes went wide, and Jack saw what he did at the same time; the reason Mac couldn’t really move even though he wasn’t restrained was he was lying on a bed of nails built into the tabletop.

Jack felt sick, but he forced himself to keep it together for Mac. There was also this blind rage spreading through him, the need to make Kovacs pay, but right now he couldn’t make himself leave Mac’s side. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, shhh,” Jack shushed him since it was obvious even talking was hard for Mac. “I’ve got you, darlin’, I’ve got you.” Suddenly, there was some kind of commotion behind one of the doors, but it quieted down quickly when Jack heard the clear sound of someone getting punched.

Seconds later, the head belonging to Martinez popped through the door. “Sorry about that, boys, he’ll behave now,” he said, glancing in Mac’s direction with worried gaze, and Jack realized that Kovacs was _right there_ , behind that door.

Jack started trembling just like Mac’s hand was, and what happened next seemed like it took place from a long distance away and Jack was just an observer. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Mac’s forehead. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, and walked out of the room, past Martinez, and drew his handgun. Then he was in front of Kovacs, who was propped up against the wall, and before any of the guys or Kovacs himself could say a word, Jack was pulling the trigger and putting a bullet through his brain. He double tapped, two in the head, two in the heart… and then he put his gun back and walked back into the room.

Mac was more alert after the gunshots, and Devers was busy putting more pressure on a wound to his arm now. “Jack? What did you do?” Mac asked, but from the look on his face, he already knew the answer.

“Nothing you should be worrying about right now, darlin’,” Jack said, brushing Mac’s hair gently with his one hand, the other going back to holding Mac’s hand. Mac was staring at him with his blue eyes, wide and full of pain, and Jack kind of wished he could bring Kovacs back to life just so he could kill him again. He had no regrets, he hadn’t felt anything when he had put these bullets in him – he still didn’t. He knew it didn’t say anything good about him, but when he glanced around… the guys from the team didn’t look at him with shock or fear or disgust – the only thing shining in their eyes was understanding, and that caught Jack off guard a little.

And it wasn’t too long before the ambulance got there, and by the time the paramedics were in the building, Devers had Mac more or less stabilized, except for getting him off the torture device he was lying on. Devers evidently hadn’t wanted to try moving him until they had a place to put him after, and all Jack could do was watch as they peeled Mac off those spikes like a slab of meat – he probably couldn’t even feel them unless he moved, and moving him all at once must have been agony. The spikes were deliberately placed so they wouldn’t pierce anything vital, just cause as much pain as possible, and Mac was actually sobbing openly by the time they put pressure bandages on his wounds and got him on a stretcher. Jack was right there with him and barely heard it when Jameson said they would wrap this up – he was busy crawling into the ambulance to be by Mac’s side, clutching at his hand and doing his best not to break down.

As they rode in the ambulance, Jack focused on breathing, knowing him having a meltdown wouldn’t help anyone. But now that he knew that scream they had heard when they had gotten into the building had belonged to Mac, Jack couldn’t get it out of his head, just like Mac’s pained sobs. Mac didn’t cry, almost not ever, especially when he was in pain, so Jack couldn’t even imagine how much it must have hurt for Mac to cry like that. He knew he was gripping Mac’s hand way too tightly, but Mac didn’t seem to mind – in fact, Mac didn’t seem to mind anything, he was awake but barely, whimpering quietly, probably ready to pass out from all the pain. Jack had his other hand buried in Mac’s hair, raking through it gently, and the touch seemed to soothe Mac, but Jack was barely holding it together, because how the fuck had that happened? Jack wasn’t even sure when Mac had been taken, but it probably hadn’t been that long ago – was anyone even looking for him or had the team missed the fact that Mac had been fucking kidnapped?

Mac eventually, almost mercifully, passed out, ironically when the paramedic was hooking him up to an IV to start running fluids and pain meds. But before he lost consciousness, Mac mustered what must have been the last of his strength, and squeezed Jack’s hand back. “Not your fault,” he muttered, because as usually, he knew how Jack’s brain worked, and then he shut his eyes. It didn’t take much longer to get to the hospital, and once they unloaded Mac and got him in a treatment room Jack was getting pushed out into the waiting room, not because they weren’t related or married, but because there were too many people trying to work on Mac and he would be in the way.

As he dropped down on the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, Jack propped his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. He had heard what Mac had said, but it _was_ Jack’s fault, how could it not be? Kovacs had taken him to get information about Jack, had taken him because of his relationship with _Jack_. Of course it was Jack’s fault. His hands were trembling against his head and silent tears were streaming down his face, because while Mac was alive, he was in so much pain that it was tearing Jack up inside.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting there, but eventually he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him, and when he looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and full of tears, he saw the guys from the strike team. They all flanked him, Devers and Jameson sitting on either side, Martinez, Lambert and Romero across the way in the other row of chairs. “Called your boss for you,” was the first thing Jameson said, and while he made no move to comfort Jack physically, his tone was sympathetic. “The way she told it, your boy took off for the night while the rest of them went out for drinks. They didn’t even know he was gone, but they’re on their way here now.”

Jack stifled a whimper, squeezing his eyes shut – they hadn’t known. Mac had been suffering, being sliced up like a piece of meat, and they hadn’t known. “Thanks, man,” Jack managed to say, his voice choked up. He really was grateful, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to call Matty himself and tell her what had happened.

“Hey, from what you’ve said he’s a tough guy,” Martinez said quietly. “He’ll be fine.”

“He was ready to headbutt me when I got close enough to take off the restraints,” Jameson said, chuckling a little. “You’ve got yourself a real firecracker. I’m sure he’ll bounce back.”

They lapsed into silence for a while – Jack wasn’t sure how long – but the next thing he knew there was a commotion, and the team was there: Riley, Bozer, Desi, Matty, Leanna, and James, all looking distraught. Before Jack could muster the strength to react, the strike team was standing, forming a human wall between him and the others. There was this awkward silence, and then Devers looked at Riley and said, “Wait, that’s Jack’s daughter. They’re cool.”

Jack forced himself to stand up just when the guys were parting and sitting back down. Riley immediately walked up to him, her eyes wide and full of tears, probably both because of what had happened and because they hadn’t seen each other in nine months. After a moment she hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder, and Jack stiffly hugged her back. He was happy to see her, he had missed her so much, but all of that was kind of in the background because there was this anger inside him, this rage that was bubbling right under the surface. He had thought killing Kovacs would have helped, but it hadn’t – he was still angry, angry at Kovacs, at himself, at everyone.

It was Desi who tried to speak first, since Mac had been her responsibility, but also probably her friend by now, since Mac had a tendency to make friends with just about everyone. “Jack, I –“

“Don’t,” Jack snarled, and he barely recognized his own voice. Riley tensed in his arms, but didn’t let go – just like Mac would have, his mind noted absently, because they were both crazy and didn’t see him for what he actually was. “Don’t even try to apologize for this. I asked you to watch out for him, Desi – where were you, huh? Where were _any_ of you?” He knew his voice was getting louder and was also on the verge of breaking, but he didn’t give a shit. He looked at all of them, anger and frustration and pain in his eyes. “Some fucking friends you are.”

Desi looked like she had been slapped, and she took a step back. “Jack –“ Matty started with wide eyes, but Jack didn’t let her speak.

“What?” he snarled, gently pushing Riley away. “What about you, huh? You always know about fucking everything, where the fuck were you?” Jack asked, his voice cracking slightly. “You know how Kovacs works, I _told you_ , how could you let this happen?” Angry tears started rolling down Jack’s cheeks, but he barely noticed. “All of you, how could you leave him alone?”

“He didn’t want to go out with us, he just wanted to go home,” Leanna said, and when Jack turned on her, she raised her hands a little, palms up in surrender. “I think he missed you.”

Bozer didn’t say anything, just… deflated, sinking down into a chair, a hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes. In fact, everyone looked to be on the verge of crying… including Matty. James hadn’t said anything yet, but when he did it was about the last thing Jack had expected to hear: “I shouldn’t have stayed away. I thought it was what he wanted after Charlie, but…”

“What are you talking about?” Jack growled. “I thought you two were doing better, why would you stay away?” Glancing around, Jack felt a little pang in his chest when he saw everyone so close to tears – even Desi and Matty which was unsettling, but Jack was still too angry to care at the moment. “Do you have any idea what that bastard did to him?” Jack choked out, his hands clenched in tight fists. “You were supposed to keep him safe.” And if Jack looked between Desi and Matty while he said it, then so be it.

“Jack,” Mac’s voice said from behind him, which startled Jack so badly he turned around and almost fell over. The strike team guys stood up in surprise and so did Bozer. Mac was as white as a sheet and probably shouldn’t be standing, wrapped up in a hospital gown, a hand wrapped around an IV pole that must have had painkillers running on it as well as a bag of blood. There was an angry line of stitches on his cheek and jaw, and countless more probably covered up by the dressings on his arms and legs. He leaned against the doorframe to stay upright, and there was a nurse flapping her arms in the background like she was trying to take flight. “Jack, stop. It’s not their fault.”

Riley gasped audibly when she saw him, but Jack barely noticed. “Mac,” he breathed out, frozen in spot and it was like Mac’s voice had snapped him out of his rage, and Jack suddenly felt shame spread through him. His feet moved without his control, and before he knew it, he walked up to Mac… and stood in front of him, eyes wide, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to hurt Mac, plus he really wasn’t sure if Mac even wanted Jack to touch him – not after what he had done to Kovacs, and after what he had just said to everyone since it was clear Mac must have heard most of it.

Apparently, Mac had none of the reservations Jack did and just sort of… collapsed against him, leaning all his weight on Jack and trusting him to hold him up – which of course Jack did, what else would he do? He put cautious arms around Mac, and could feel that his back was covered in bandages under the gown. “I went home by myself,” Mac said, just loudly enough that everyone could hear him. “I _chose_ that, just like I’ve been doing every other time you guys invite me out. This isn’t your fault, not any more than it’s Jack’s fault. The only one to blame for this is Kovacs, and he’s dead.” Jack held Mac up, but he was tense, not sure how to proceed. He didn’t dare pull him any closer, one, because he didn’t want to hurt him, two, because he didn’t want to reveal their relationship in case Mac didn’t want that. Did they even have a relationship at this point?

“So, he’s dead? It’s over?” Matty asked after a moment, her voice slightly choked up, and Jack kind of hated himself for making them all feel even worse than they must have felt on the flight to Denver. “You guys took him out?” Matty asked, and she was addressing the guys from Jack’s strike team.

One of Mac’s arms, the one that didn’t have the IV in it, slid around Jack’s waist to hold him loosely. His face was pushed into Jack’s neck, and literally nobody seemed surprised by this. “Yeah, we got him,” Jameson said in response to Matty’s question. “He was in the middle of torturing MacGyver when we got there and ran off. Martinez caught him, and then Dalton put him down.”

Jack was pretty sure everyone now knew exactly what had gone down and that he had basically executed Kovacs in cold blood. He didn’t care though, too busy focusing on holding Mac as gently as possible, fucking amazed that Mac actually wanted to be held by Jack like that. It would be so easy to turn his head and press a soft kiss to Mac’s ear or his temple, but Jack didn’t know where they stood, and also, the team was there watching them. Jack knew that they probably all wanted to talk to Mac, hug him, probably apologize, but nobody moved. They all still looked distraught and miserable, and Jack was aware it was partially because of him.

It was quiet for a moment, and then Mac said, “I don’t want to stay here.” His voice sounded absolutely wrecked from screaming and crying, and his hand had snaked its way under Jack’s tac shirt, seeking out the warmth of his skin. “I hate hospitals.”

“I’ll get us some hotel rooms, you’re in no shape to fly home,” Matty said, and when Mac turned his bleary attention to her, she climbed on a nearby chair and gave him a very careful hug, seemingly not giving a damn about Jack’s earlier hostility. “I’m so sorry, Mac,” she whispered, as close to crying as Jack had ever heard her.

“If you want to leave here against medical advice, I could hang out for tonight?” Devers suddenly offered. “I mean, I’m not a doctor, but I could an eye on you, MacGyver, and make sure you’re okay.”

Jack had tensed when Mac’s hand sneaked under his shirt, but again, no one ever batted an eye. “Told you, it’s not your fault,” Mac muttered quietly to Matty before giving her a very weak and shaky smile. After that, his attention shifted to Devers. “I’m sure you’re eager to get back home. I’ll be… I’ll be fine,” Mac said quietly, sagging against Jack a bit more, clearly exhausted, and Jack’s heart broke again.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t stay here?” Jack asked quietly, speaking into Mac’s ear even though he still wasn’t so sure why Mac was allowing him to be so close. He was also expecting James to come and, you know, hug his son or something, but he suddenly remembered what James had said before – something about staying away after… Charlie?

“The blood transfusion is finished,” Mac said in answer to Jack’s question, looking at the tubes going into his hand. “There really isn’t much else they can do for me here besides give me some pain medication.” He looked at Jack and smiled a little again. “I’d rather be in a hotel bed with you than here alone.”

Devers took it upon himself to get those painkillers for Mac, and the strike team hadn’t made a move to leave. Everyone else finally started moving again, coming over to apologize to Mac and give him gentle hugs as the hand-flapping nurse from earlier took the IV out of Mac’s hand. Desi had a bag with some of Mac’s clothes – a t-shirt and sweatpants, plus sneakers and a jacket – and she gave it to Jack with her eyes aimed at the floor. Next thing Jack knew, he was alone in the treatment room with Mac, who sat very gingerly on the edge of the bed in his hospital gown and looked… so small, and much younger than he was.

After his outburst in the waiting room, Jack had been more or less keeping it together, but now he felt himself falling apart again, and he _couldn’t_ do that. But no matter how many times he tried to take a deep breath, he kind of started shaking a little again, his eyes filling with tears. “Mac, I’m… I’m so sorry,” Jack choked out, keeping his distance from the bed and Mac. “God, I’m so sorry.”

Mac shook his head a little, eyes shut in exhaustion. “Jack… please, can you just come here?” he asked, and reached out a hand. And no matter how horrible Jack felt, he was helpless to do anything but shuffle closer, but he stopped short of touching Mac. So Mac made an annoyed sound and grabbed Jack’s arm with a surprising amount of strength given the shape he was in, and pulled until Jack was sitting on the bed next to him. “I don’t blame you for this,” Mac said, and leaned his head on Jack’s shoulder. His hair was greasy with sweat and had blood in it. “Please, stop apologizing.”

Jack couldn’t care less about the state of Mac’s hair and he leaned his cheek on the top of Mac’s head, and he gently grabbed his hand. For some fucking reason, Mac wanted him near, and even though Jack should let him go for his own good, he was a selfish bastard. He was also still blaming himself for everything, but he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to upset Mac. “How… how are you feelin’?” Jack asked shakily, a stupid question, he knew.

Mac chuckled, threading their fingers together and putting his other hand on top of the pile, like he was afraid Jack was going to try and run away. “Like shit,” he replied. “Everything hurts. They iced my face for me, but at this point I think that’s the least of my problems.” He paused, pressing himself along Jack’s side cautiously, probably not wanting to put too much pressure on anything. “The… the doctor said I’ll probably have some scars, but as long as I don’t wind up with an infection, I should be fine.”

Jack exhaled shakily, squeezing his eyes shut to stop new tears from falling. Another apology was almost out of his lips, but he swallowed it down, at least for now. They sat in silence for a while, and despite his earlier words about wanting to leave the hospital, Mac didn’t seem too eager to move away from Jack. “I know this is probably the last thing you wanna hear right now…” Jack started after a moment, squeezing Mac’s hand gently. “But I really missed you. Every fucking day.”

Mac leaned back enough to look at Jack’s face and frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want to hear that? I missed you too, probably way more than most people would consider healthy.” He brought his free hand up to touch Jack’s cheek. “This might put a crimp on that whole getting married thing, though. Don’t think I can wear a suit for a while.”

Jack’s heart did a weird thing in his chest as he stared at Mac with wide eyes. “You… you still want that? With me?” Jack asked, disbelief lacing his voice, because he had been pretty much convinced that Mac would have changed his mind after such a long time. It had been nine months after all, almost a year, and Jack was shocked, to put it mildly.

Mac blinked at him, head tilting to one side. “I know I’m probably a little slow thanks to the morphine,” he said. “But… what? Jack, of course I still want to get married.” Something in those beautiful blue eyes of his dimmed, and Jack could almost feel Mac pulling in on himself, bracing for a blow. “Unless… unless _you_ don’t want that anymore?” A self-deprecating, humorless chuckle. “I mean, I’m probably going to look like shit from now on, so I get it.”

Jack’s heart dropped when he heard that, and he reached to cup Mac’s face, carefully avoiding the stitches. “Mac, baby, of course I want to marry you,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked into Mac’s eyes. “It doesn’t… Mac, no matter how many scars you have, you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Jack rubbed Mac’s skin gently with his thumb. “I love you, darlin’. All of you. And that includes your scars.”

Mac smiled, a watery, unstable thing. “I love you too,” he whispered, leaning into Jack’s touch, looking as if he… had missed the feeling of Jack’s hands against his skin. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Jack’s in a light kiss, and moved to pull back… but Jack made this broken little sound and Mac kissed him again, firmer this time. It was their first kiss after nine months apart, and not until that long ago, Jack had been sure he had lost Mac, so he closed his eyes and let Mac kiss him, cautiously kissing him back. His hand slid from Mac’s cheek to the back of his neck as their lips slowly slid together, and after a moment Jack pulled back, just enough to take in a shuddering breath, his forehead pressed against Mac’s.

“I thought… that maybe you changed your mind,” Jack said quietly, his breath ghosting on Mac’s lips. “About me. About… us.”

Mac pulled back enough to look at Jack properly, which really wasn’t that far. “Why would I do that?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Jack, you… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Nine months without you was hell and I never want to do it again. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t want this anymore?” He paused again, the backs of his fingers of one hand rubbing across Jack’s stubble. “The team knows about us, by the way. I sort of had to tell them why I was so miserable or Riley was going to force march me to a therapist.”

“That’s why no one said anything before,” Jack muttered quietly, mostly to himself. Hesitantly, he leaned in again and pressed the softest kiss to the corner of Mac’s mouth, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and removing his hand from the back of Mac’s neck. “Wanna get out of there?” Jack asked, giving Mac a shadow of a smile.

“Yeah, I do,” Mac said, and Jack helped him get dressed in the clothes Desi had brought, doing his best not to actually touch Mac while he did it. When they emerged from the treatment room Devers had some paperwork for Mac to sign and a couple of bottles of prescriptions – one was antibiotics, the other was painkillers. Once Mac signed the paperwork the rest of the team got a chance to hug him gently, starting with Riley and moving on down the line. Even Desi hugged him and whispered an apology, which didn’t quite line up with the Desi Jack knew, but Mac had that effect on everybody. James was last, and despite whatever was going on between them Mac let his dad hug him, and maybe hugged him back a little tighter than he had with the others, except for Jack.

“I’m so sorry, son,” James whispered, his voice cracking, and it sounded like he was apologizing for more than one thing.

Jack stood back, watching the exchanges in silence. He knew he hadn’t been entirely fair to them and should probably apologize, but he wasn’t quite there yet, so he just let them hug Mac while watching him like a hawk the entire time, searching for any sign of pain on his face. He felt Desi’s eyes on him, but he ignored it for now, choosing to say goodbye to his strike team that was still there at the hospital, waiting patiently. Since the mission was over, they could finally go home now, and as they told Jack, they already had their transports back home arranged – they would probably have to meet again for a detailed debriefing, but right now everyone was allowed to go back home for a moment. The only exception was Devers, who quietly told Jack that despite Mac’s protests, he was going to stay. “I already called Cameron, he gets it,” Devers said, and it took Jack a second to remember that was the name of Devers’ husband.

They all piled into some SUVs and headed to the hotel, which was only a little ways down the road from the hospital. Matty checked them in and they all went upstairs, dividing into pairs for room sharing. Jack stuck to Mac’s side like glue, not that anybody was ever going to question them sharing a room, and Devers wound up taking the pull-out couch in the room next door to theirs, which was occupied by Riley and Desi. He made sure Mac took his pills and told Jack what to watch out for, and then he left them alone, quietly shutting the connecting door behind him. As soon as he was gone, Mac carefully sat on the queen-size bed to take off his sneakers. “He’s nice. He didn’t have to stay.”

“He’s… we’ve been through a lot during these nine months. We look out for each other,” Jack said quietly. “And that includes our families as well.” Then Jack realized that except for his bulletproof vest, he was still wearing his tac gear, so he slowly started taking off his thigh holster, his fingers struggling with the clasps. His entire body itched to be close to Mac, to hold him and never let him go, but he was also aware that one wrong move on his part, one hug too tight, could cause Mac a lot of pain. “You… you want me to take the couch?” Jack asked quietly, cursing the damn holster and the clasps, still struggling with them.

Mac’s fingers, surprisingly nimble given the trauma and the fact that he has just taken a Vicodin, grabbed Jack’s hands where they were fumbling with the holster clasps and pulled them away. He went to work on the clasps and got them undone, pulling the holster off and setting it on the nightstand, because he knew that despite Kovacs being dead Jack would still want his gun nearby. He looked up at Jack and blinked those pretty blue eyes. “Of course not. Don’t be an idiot.” He very gingerly moved so he was lying on one side of the bed, leaving room for Jack once he changed; Jack noticed absently for the first time that several of Mac’s fingers were missing their nails… like they had gotten ripped out by a pair of pliers. “I haven’t slept next to you for nine months and you think I’m gonna make you take the couch?”

Not wanting to bother Mac with his fear of hurting him by accident, Jack forced himself to look away from Mac’s fingers. He didn’t know how, but somehow his bag had gotten into the hotel room, and he had a feeling the guys from the strike team had had something to do with it. Rummaging through it, Jack found a t-shirt that he thought was clean, and his sweatpants, and he took off his tac shirt, tossing it aside. He glanced at Mac before he put on his t-shirt, and found him watching him with a small smile on his lips. “You know,” Mac started, looking Jack up and down. “When I imagined watching you undress after getting back home, these were not the circumstances I had in mind.”

“Me neither,” Jack admitted, because he had thought about what it would be like to come home to Mac nearly every day. Of course part of him had been afraid Mac would want to call things off after so long, but the part that hadn’t, the part that could hope… he had envisioned their reunion countless times and it had been nothing like this. He shucked off his boots and tac pants quickly and replaced them with the sweatpants before he climbed into the bed next to Mac, close but not touching. He wasn’t sure how Mac was going to want to sleep and didn’t want to presume anything. “Have to say, I pictured something a little more romantic than a hotel room in Denver.”

“Well, I pictured something along the lines of kissing you senseless and not letting you out of bed for hours.” The corner of Mac’s lips twitched up in a smile, and Jack found himself really, really wanting to kiss that smile, but… he couldn’t do that, could he? He couldn’t risk hurting Mac. Before he could reply to what Mac had said, Jack’s eyes flicked down to his fingers again, bile rising in his throat. Mac followed Jack’s gaze and sighed, curling his fingers in on themselves into loose fists. “Jack, I… if you’re that uncomfortable, you don’t… you don’t have to stay with me,” he said, and it sounded like the words were getting pulled out of him by force, just like those fingernails. And because Mac was Mac and he was always thinking about other people and not himself, he added, “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“Mac, no,” Jack rushed to say, cursing himself, reaching for Mac’s hand, but stopping himself in the very last second, his hand hovering above Mac’s fist. “I want you as close as possible, I just… don’t want to accidentally hurt you,” Jack said quietly. “It’s not easy, you’re right,” he admitted after a moment. “But only because the thought of you in so much pain… it’s killin’ me.”

Mac hesitated for only a moment before shifting closer, turning his hand over so Jack could hold it – which he did immediately. “Jack, I… I just took a shitload of Vicodin on top of a very nice morphine dose, so unless you decide punching me is a good idea I don’t think you’re going to hurt me.” He regarded Jack with this vulnerable look, one that only Jack would ever get to see, and asked softly, “Will you… could you hold me? Please?”

And as much as it scared Jack, he would never deny Mac anything, especially if he was looking at him like this. “Yeah, baby, of course,” he breathed out and squeezed Mac’s hand gently before letting go and lying on his back. He opened his arms and Mac instantly moved, carefully shifting closer until his head was resting on Jack’s chest, above his heart. Gently, Jack wrapped his arms around him, kind of tearing up, because after so long he finally got to have Mac in his arms again.

Mac’s arm wrapped around Jack’s middle and he snuggled into the embrace, letting out this pleased little sigh that was genuine, but probably only allowed because of the drugs. His fingers curved around Jack’s hip and dug in. “I love you,” he murmured, and if Jack looked down at him he could watch the line of stitches on his cheek and jaw move with the words. “And I know I said it before, but I really missed you.”

“I love you too. So much.” Jack had to fight the impulse to tighten his arms around Mac. “I thought of you every day. Wishing I could see you, even if only for one second,” Jack sighed, tilting his head to press a kiss to Mac’s hair. “God, I missed you so much.”

They were quiet for a moment, but Jack could tell Mac wasn’t asleep from the way he was breathing. “Charlie’s dead,” Mac whispered, and for a moment Jack was certain he must have misheard. “That’s part of why my dad and I haven’t been talking. There was… Charlie wound up dead, he sacrificed himself, and my dad… was telling me all about how the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one, and then I found out later the reason the guy who went after Charlie did it at all was because his son was part of a group of soldiers who died saving me… and my father ordered it.”

“Mac, I’m so sorry,” Jack said, tightening his arms around Mac a little, regret and guilt spreading through him. He should have been there to help Mac get through this. “I know how close you two were, shit, I’m so sorry.” Jack didn’t really know what to think about what James had done – he wasn’t that surprised by his hypocritical behavior, and while he had never been a fan of James, he knew that he and Mac had been doing better, and Jack was willing to give a man a chance as well, for Mac’s sake.

Mac hummed in acknowledgement, nuzzling his nose into Jack’s chest and breathing in. “Oh, and he’s got cancer,” he continues. “My dad, I mean. He’s still doing chemo and I was going with him up until Charlie… but Desi’s been great. Uhm… oh, Bozer and Leanna moved in together, but they helped me bring all your stuff to my place like you wanted. And Riley broke up with Billy – he was cheating on her.”

Jack blinked a few times, processing all the information that had just gotten dumped on him all at once. “Shit, Mac,” Jack breathed out. “You’ve been through so much and I… I haven’t…” Jack trails off, once again swallowing down the guilt building up in him. “I’m also going to kill that Colton punk, I swear to god,” Jack added after a moment, already planning how exactly he would kill Billy and make it look like an accident.

“I offered to commit arson with Riley, she said no,” Mac commented, a little pout to his voice, like he had been really committed to burning Billy’s house down. “But I’m pretty sure if she wanted him dead he’d be that way.” He tilted his head back a little to look at Jack. “You know it’s not your fault you weren’t here, right? You had to get Kovacs – we all understood that.”

“You keep sayin’ that,” Jack said quietly after a moment, and Mac frowned, making a questioning sound. “You keep saying it’s not my fault. That I wasn’t here, that Kovacs got to you, that you got hurt…” Jack swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling. “But it doesn’t feel that way.”

Mac wriggled up a little bit, until he could press his lips against Jack’s jaw. “I don’t blame you, Jack, not for any of it,” he said quietly, his thumb stroking at the skin over Jack’s hipbone under his shirt. “I knew what the risks were when we got together, and I didn’t care about any of it. I still don’t.”

“Maybe you should.” The words were out of Jack’s mouth before he even knew what he was saying, whispered quietly, barely audible. “If you… if you weren’t with me… None of it would have happened,” Jack continued, looking at the ceiling instead of Mac, his heart breaking, but he needed to say it. “You’d be okay. You’d be… safe. Probably so much happier if you never met me.”

That was enough to make Mac sit up a little, leaning his weight on his arm that had less damage and reaching out to touch Jack’s cheek, gently turning his head until they were looking at each other. “Jack, if I’d never met you I’d probably be dead,” he said. “I was the weird bomb tech that nobody would put up with after Peña died, remember? If my dad hadn’t put us together, I’m sure I would’ve gotten shot or stabbed or beheaded by an insurgent.” He stared into Jack’s eyes, willing him to understand. “ _You_ aren’t the problem. You protect me from the problems.”

Jack’s chest tightened when he saw Mac staring at him with so much affection in his eyes and not for the first time in his life, he wondered how the hell he had gotten so lucky to be with Mac like that – god knew he didn’t deserve it. “I love you so much,” Jack breathed out, gently pulling Mac down until he was lying back down, and not putting too much pressure on his wounds. In response, Mac slid his hand from Jack’s face, trailing it down Jack’s chest and feeling the chain around his neck under the t-shirt until his fingers reached the dog tags and the ring that was attached to them, and he gently pressed his hand against them through the material.

And Jack was helpless to do anything but bring one hand up to cover Mac’s where it was resting against his chest. “I love you too,” Mac said, around another contented sigh. “And eventually I’m going to destroy the guilt complex you have with a chainsaw.” He didn’t seem to remotely register what he had just said as amusing, and drifted off to sleep in Jack’s hold.

Jack was determined to stay up to watch over Mac, but as the minutes passed he could feel the exhaustion slowly catching up to him, which wasn’t that surprising after everything that had happened. Exhaling shakily, he tilted his head to press a kiss to Mac’s hair, and after that he closed his eyes, eventually letting himself fall asleep.

* * *

The first thing Mac’s mind registered was that he was in pain. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was obvious that the meds had slightly worn off. The second thing he realized was that it was still dark, and it took his brain a second to figure out that something must have woken him up. At first Mac thought that maybe it was the pain, but then he suddenly heard a quiet whimper coming from somewhere next to him, and that was when Mac realized that he was lying on his back on the mattress and not on top of Jack like he when he had fallen asleep. Stifling a groan of pain, he reached to switch the light on, and then he saw Jack, curled up next to him, his entire body trembling as he whimpered again. When he leaned over, Mac saw tears streaming down Jack’s face. “God, Mac, no,” Jack sobbed, obviously caught in a nightmare. “Please, no, come back, open your eyes, please.”

Mac felt his chest tighten at the sight of Jack being so distraught. He didn’t know what Jack was having a nightmare about, but clearly it had something to do with him. Cautiously, Mac reached out and put a hand on Jack’s shaking shoulder. “Jack, hey, you need to wake up. You’re dreaming, babe.”

Jack’s eyes snapped open right away and before Mac knew what was happening, he was being forcibly pushed down on the mattress with Jack straddling him, and Mac couldn’t hold back the yelp as pain erupted through his entire body. Jack was obviously not entirely awake yet since he was pulling his arm back, clearly about to punch Mac. “Jack,” Mac gasped, his vision blurring with tears because everything _hurt_ , Jack was heavy, and one of the worst cuts was running up the inside of Mac’s thigh, and Jack was right on top of it.

Jack froze above him when Mac said his name, his arm still pulled back. His eyes went from half open to wide, and he scrambled away from Mac even faster than he had climbed on top of him. “Oh god, no,” he said, and he was off the bed now, backing up until he reached the corner of the hotel room. His back hit the wall and he slid down it, curling in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice small and shaky.

Mac was still lying on his back, staring at the ceiling and taking a few deep breaths to ease the burning pain. He blinked away the tears, and after a moment the pain subsided – the ache was still there, but it wasn’t so overwhelming and paralyzing as before. “Jack?” Mac slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position, his heart breaking when he saw Jack curled up against the wall. “Jack, it’s okay, come back here.”

Jack shook his head vigorously, and shrunk in on himself even more. “No, no – see, this is exactly what I was afraid of,” he said, and he was digging his fingers into his own legs so hard it was sure to leave bruises. Tears were still running freely down his face and his breathing was labored, like he was trying really hard not to start sobbing. “I knew this was going to happen, I _knew_ it, I should’ve stayed away.”

Since it was obvious Jack wasn’t coming back to bed on his own, Mac moved to the edge of the mattress and swallowed down a groan of pain as he gingerly stood up. Slowly, he started walking in Jack’s direction until he was standing right in front of him. “Jack, you were having a nightmare,” Mac said softly, wishing he could touch Jack, but he couldn’t exactly bend down like that. “I probably shouldn’t have touched you, it was my fault, really. But I’m fine, Jack,” Mac tried to assure him before smiling a little and nudging Jack with his foot. “Now, if you make me sit on the floor next to you, I won’t be able to get up, so… Please, come back to bed?”

“You shouldn’t have to think touching me means I’m going to… do that,” Jack said, his voice rough. The foot Mac had nudged him with was missing some toenails, and Mac could see exactly when Jack had noticed that, tensing even more – and for a moment Mac thought it would be enough to set Jack off again – but he took in a shuddering breath and forced himself to stand up, probably because he knew that if he didn’t, Mac _would_ sit down next to him and cause himself more pain, he was just like that. Jack rubbed his hands over his face, clearly trying to get his shit together. “Do you want another Vicodin?” he asked, staring at the wall behind Mac. “I’ll get it for you, and then I’m gonna go sleep on the couch. Like I should’ve before.”

When Jack moved to walk past Mac, Mac wrapped his fingers around Jack’s wrist, making him freeze. Slowly, Mac stood in front of him and ran his hands up Jack’s arms to his shoulders, feeling how tense he was. “If you run away to the couch, I’m coming too and I’m going to sleep on top of you,” Mac said, his voice quiet but firm. “Jack, you were having a _nightmare_ , a bad one judging by what you were saying under your breath. It’s not your fault, babe.”

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and pulled in another breath. He stood perfectly still under Mac’s hands and didn’t dare reach out to touch him in return. “You were dead,” he whispered, eyes still closed, voice trembling. “It was all the same, we breached the doctor’s office, Kovacs ran… and you were dead. He’d slit your throat before he left, and there was… there was so much blood…”

Mac took in a deep breath because seeing Jack so distraught like that was tearing him up inside. “It was just a dream, I’m okay,” Mac said, sliding his hands lower and wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist, pulling him in a gentle hug. “I’m right here and I’m just fine,” he whispered into Jack’s ear, ignoring the small pang in his chest when Jack didn’t move to hug him back. He was still tense, barely breathing, and Mac started running his hands up and down Jack’s back, hoping to ease some of that tension.

A few moments passed, and Jack gradually relaxed in Mac’s hold. He was still holding himself much more stiffly than he usually would have when they were that close, but his muscles didn’t feel like steel under Mac’s hands and his breathing had calmed. He still didn’t touch Mac, not with his hands, but he did rest his cheek against the side of Mac’s head. “I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing hard. “I know you said you don’t want to hear it, but I’m so sorry, Mac, for everything – including this.”

Mac hugged Jack as tightly as his injuries let him, digging his fingers into Jack’s shoulder blades. “It’s okay,” he said against Jack’s temple, his words followed by a soft kiss pressed into Jack’s skin. “It’s not your fault. None of it was your fault, Jack.” Mac knew he was repeating himself, but he didn’t mind – he was prepared to say it as many times as necessary for Jack to believe him.

There was a pause, and then Jack’s hands settled very tentatively on Mac’s waist, just above his hips, which was one of the few spots where he wasn’t cut or bruised. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, worry taking over now, but Mac didn’t miss the way Jack nosed into the space behind his ear and breathed in, like he had missed the way Mac smelled. “Did any of your stitches pop? Are you in pain?”

“It hurts,” Mac admitted, not wanting to lie to Jack. “But it’s mostly because it’s been a few hours and the pain meds wore off.” Mac pulled back a little so he could look into Jack’s eyes, moving one of his hands to gently touch Jack’s jaw. “I think all the stitches are good, though.” Leaning in, Mac kissed Jack’s cheek, lingering for a moment, his lips and nose pressed against Jack’s skin. “Will you come back to bed with me?” Mac asked quietly, his thumb gently stroking Jack’s stubble.

* * *

Jack exhaled a shaky breath at the feeling of Mac’s lips and fingers against his skin, because as much as he loved it – loved _him_ , this impossibly good, kindhearted man – he knew he didn’t deserve any of it. However, when Mac asked for something, if it was in Jack’s power to give it to him, he would always do it. “Okay,” he agreed, “but you have to take another pain pill. You need all the rest you can get.” And he followed Mac to the bed, watched him take the Vicodin, and then lied down, figuring he would let Mac position him how he wanted. And apparently what he wanted was to be the little spoon, with them on their sides and Jack pressed up against his (injured, Jack’s brain reminded) back. He dragged Jack’s arm over his waist and threaded their fingers together… just like he had done on that last morning they had had nine months ago. “Uh, Mac? You sure this is okay?”

“Yes, Jack,” Mac said, a smile audible in his voice, and he brought Jack’s hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to it, again, just like on that morning nine months ago. “I’m sure. You worry too much.” There was fondness and a note of teasing in Mac’s voice, and it made Jack’s chest tighten because he really hadn’t expected to have this again – he still wasn’t sure he would get to keep Mac, he was probably going to fuck it up sooner than later. Hesitantly, he pressed his lips to the back of Mac’s neck, lingering a little and breathing in the familiar smell he had missed so much – sunshine and ozone; also sweat and blood, but Jack didn’t mind. Mac exhaled and made a pleased sound when he felt Jack’s lips on his skin, and eventually Jack felt Mac drift away, his breathing evening out.

Jack listened to Mac’s breathing for hours, absently watching the sun rise through the cracks in the curtains. He didn’t dare go back to sleep, not after what had happened last time, and he doubted he could have even if he had wanted to. Around the time Jack’s stomach started grumbling in search of food, there was a knock at the connecting room door, and Devers let himself in, a first aid kit in hand. That was enough to make Mac stir, and Devers smiled at him. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, the words not flirtatious and yet somehow also not sardonic. “I figured I could come in here and change your dressings before I take off, and Dalton could go apologize to your family for being an ass yesterday.”

Jack sighed deeply, removing his arm from around Mac and lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Aren’t you a doll, Devers,” Jack sighed again, fondly, but he made no move to get out of bed. The truth was, he knew he had to go and apologize, he hadn’t been fair to them, but he was not looking forward to that. Also, he was aware Matty could do many things to him for yelling at her, and while he was not scared (Jack Dalton didn’t scare easily), he was… oh, hell, he was terrified, Matilda Webber was a terrifying woman, sue him.

Mac sat up slowly, and once he did that he smacked Jack on the stomach – not hard, more like a love tap. “Go talk to them, Jack,” he said, and when Jack grunted in a noncommittal way, he poked him in the ribs. “It’s only going to get harder the longer you wait. Better to get it over with now. I’ll be fine by myself for a few minutes.”

“I promise I’ll return him to you unmolested,” Devers said solemnly. “Well, maybe.”

So Jack finally relented and got out of bed, and when he traipsed into the next room, everybody was already gathered there, evidently deciding what they want to order from room service. When Jack came in they all went silent except for Matty, who gave him a critical look and asked, “How is he?”

“Better, I think,” Jack said before taking a deep breath. “Look, I… I owe you guys an apology,” Jack said quietly, his gaze shifting to everyone in the room, one by one. “I was… worried and angry, and I took it out on all of you. I shouldn’t have done that, so… I’m sorry.”

They all exchanged glances, and then Desi stood up. She walked over and looked him up and down, arms crossed over her chest. “I think it should go without saying that we accept your apology – but you need to remember that you aren’t the only one who loves Mac,” she said, and Jack’s eyes widened a little, because Desi generally didn’t talk about her feeling like that – Mac must have really made an impression. “I wanted him to come with us last night, and so did Bozer, but he insisted on going home. I wasn’t going to push him, because _you_ told me that was the worst thing to do when he gets in a funk.”

Jack briefly closed his eyes, feeling like even a bigger jerk than before. “I know. I’m really sorry, Des,” Jack sighed. “I know you did a great job watching his back. And got attached while doing it.” Jack gave her a weak grin. “What I said to you wasn’t fair, so really, I’m sorry.”

Desi looked at him for another moment before she opened her arms, and Jack hugged her. He could hear the others shifting around and getting up, and one by one they made amends. Matty was the last one, and Jack crouched down on the floor so they could be eye to eye. “If you were anyone else I would’ve ripped your head off and shoved it up your ass for that,” Matty told him, and from the tone of her voice she definitely meant it.

“I’m aware,” Jack said, holding her gaze and not flinching away. But Jack wouldn’t be Jack if he didn’t play with danger at least _a little_. “Does that mean you have a soft spot for me, boss lady?” Jack asked, a small teasing grin on his face.

Matty let him squirm for a minute before she smiled a little and hugged him. “Maybe a tiny one,” she muttered, and Jack chuckled. “And I have an even bigger one for Mac, but don’t tell him that or he’ll try to get away with all kinds of shit.” She stepped back and cleared her throat. “I have a plane all ready for us. Let’s have some food and get the hell out of here.”

James approached, and Jack started a little when he realized he barely noticed Mac’s old man was in the room. “I talked to you strike team commander,” he said. “And given the circumstances he’s willing to let you skip the in person debriefs if you provide him with a written account of what happened.”

Jack winced a little when he realized he was going to have to describe how he had executed Kovacs. Hopefully, since the mission had been all about taking the bastard out, no one should frown upon too much on Jack’s ruthless execution, considering the circumstances. “More paperwork. I sure missed that a lot,” Jack said, rolling his eyes a little to mask his original reaction. Now that he paid more attention to James, he saw he didn’t look that great, and he instantly remembered what Mac had told him about James having cancer.

James translated the look on Jack’s face and smiled, a little tilt to his mouth that was strikingly similar to one of Mac’s more common expressions. “He told you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, and glanced at Riley, putting an arm around her shoulders. “He also told me I might need to go knock Billy Colton’s head off his shoulders.”

Mac and Devers came in on that remark, and Mac rolled his eyes. “That is _not_ what I said,” he told Riley, and she smiled at him. He came over and ducked his way under Jack’s other arm, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. Once again, nobody seemed remotely phased by that. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

Ignoring the fear of hurting Mac that was immediately surging through his body the second Mac pressed himself against him, Jack did his best not to tense too much. Instead, he focused on Mac’s question. “You think they serve burgers for breakfast? Because I’ve been cravin’ one for months, man,” Jack said, smiling a little when Riley laughed and wrapped her arms around his middle, not too keen to let him go, apparently. Jack could definitely relate, so he didn’t mind.

“Given what the Phoenix is paying to stay here I think they’ll serve whatever we want,” Matty said wryly, and once everybody figured out what that was, she called downstairs and ordered it. They all got comfortable while they were waiting, and for Riley and Mac that evidently meant pulling Jack down on one of the beds in the room and cuddling up on either side of him. At one point Riley’s hand bumped Mac’s and instead of pulling away, she grabbed it and squeezed, and Jack suddenly found himself fighting back tears, because the two people he loved most in the world loved each other, and they were all finally back together.

So Jack just wrapped his arms around Mac and Riley (not as tightly around Mac) and held them, somehow managing not to cry like a baby. At one point, Riley shifted a little and her hand pressed against the dog tags under Jack’s t-shirt, and she sat up a little. “What’s that?” she asked with a small frown on her face, and Jack opened his mouth to answer, but she beat him to it. “No, I know these are your dog tags, but there’s something else…” Without waiting for Jack’s explanation, permission or whatever, she reached for the chain around his neck and gently pulled until she got the dog tags from under his shirt… and her eyes widened when she saw the paperclip ring hanging right next to them. “Oh my god, Jack?!” she exclaimed loudly, making everyone stop talking and look at them, alarmed by her tone.

They all came closer for a better look, and out of the corner of his eyes, Jack could see Mac’s face flushing pink. “Is that a… wow, when did _that_ happen?” Leanna asked, and Desi looked like she wanted to punch Mac in the arm, but opted for smacking his foot gently instead – besides the missing toenails, it was one of his few injured spots.

“You said you guys were dating, not that you were _engaged_!” she practically shouted, and everyone started giving their congratulations… including James. Which was a bit of a head-scratcher for Jack, if he was being honest.

“Congratulations,” he said, smiling at both of them. “I’m very happy for you – although I do hope you’re planning on giving him a real ring, Angus.”

“It’s on my to-do list, dad,” Mac said dryly, but he was smiling at his father, which was progress.

“It is?” Jack asked, looking at Mac in surprise, but he thought he was allowed to be shocked – he _had_ thought Mac would have broken things off with him once he had come back home.

Mac glanced up from where he was pressed against Jack’s side, and gave him an incredulous look. “Uhm, yeah? The only reason you got that little thing is because I had to figure out something to give you on such a short notice before you left.”

Riley smacked Jack on the chest. “Don’t be an idiot,” she said, which was one of the many things Mac had said to him last night. “You two are perfect for each other, I’m so happy for you.”

“So when are we doing this thing?” Bozer asked, bouncing excitedly in his seat. “Because I can’t wait to be your best man, Mac – I _am_ your best man, right?”

Mac laughed a little, weak but still genuine. “Yeah, Boze, of course you are. I’m thinking maybe when I can take more than three steps without wanting to fall down.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Bozer calmed down a little, but it was still obvious that if he could, he would still be bouncing around the room. In the meantime, Jack was still fucking amazed that Mac wanted to marry _him_ , after everything that had happened, but he kept it all to himself.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door, and the way Jack and Devers both startled, subconsciously reaching for their guns that weren’t there said all that needed to be said about how exhausting and hard the Kovacs mission had been. Once James was sure the poor hotel employee wouldn’t get shot, he opened the door and got all the food. They had breakfast – well, some of them did, but Jack was enjoying his burger, thank you very much – and of course Mac started talking to Devers and got his life story out of him in about five minutes, whereas it had taken Jack a full three months to find out he was gay. The next thing Jack knew, Devers and his husband were invited to their wedding, and so was the rest of the strike team – and apparently Devers and Cameron were coming to visit from Chicago sometime next month? Something about an LA vacation? Jack had no idea what the expression on his face looked like, but Riley was snickering at him, so it must have been pretty priceless.

As soon as Devers was done eating, he stood up, and offered Jack a hand to shake. “It’s been a pleasure, Dalton. Well, not really, but you know what I mean.”

“That I do.” Jack nodded. “Thanks, man. For everything,” he said, and they both knew Jack wasn’t just talking about the past nine months, but also helping to save Mac’s life. “You ever need anything, give me a call. And I guess I’ll be seeing you next month.” Jack smiled, and Devers laughed loudly.

“As long as we meet up in different circumstances, I’m all game.” He grinned, and then he said goodbye to everyone else, patting Mac gently on his shoulder before he grabbed his bag and left to catch a plane back to Chicago.

And eventually the rest of them packed up their shit and headed to the airport too, and pretty soon they were on the Phoenix jet back to LA. Jack once again found himself bracketed by Riley and Mac, who both wound up napping with their heads on his shoulders during the relatively short flight. Once they landed, they all piled into a big SUV with James at the wheel and started dropping people off, and to Jack’s surprise Riley got out when Desi did, at Desi’s apartment building. There was… something going on there that he wasn’t aware of, because Mac didn’t seem shocked at all. Eventually, James pulled up to Mac’s house where the garage door was hanging open because evidently that was how Mac had left it before he had been taken… and Jack’s car was in the garage, which had previously been packed with so much junk you could barely see the walls.

“That’s… my car,” Jack said in a very intelligent way, pointing at the garage. “It’s… didn’t I leave it on your driveway under a tarp?” Jack asked, still staring at the clean garage that he barely recognized, and he barely registered Mac ducking his head with a small blush on his cheeks. “And what happened to your garage? Were your robbed or somethin’?”

“I cleaned it out,” Mac said, palming his house keys, which had been thankfully recovered from Kovacs’ car along with his wallet and phone. “The garage, I mean. I know how much that car means to you, it didn’t seem right to leave it outside. Plus a lot of stuff in there was junk anyway.” He hesitated for a second. “I’ve… maybe been driving it to work?”

“What?” Jack asked in surprise because Mac rarely ever drove unless he absolutely had to. Which, in theory, he had since he hadn’t had Jack to drive him anymore, but Jack had kind of expected Desi to pick up the habit of picking Mac up and driving him to work every morning. “You never– wait a sec, why do you look so scared?” Jack asked, suddenly registering the slightly panicked look in Mac’s wide blue eyes that were watching him cautiously.

“Because you love your car?” Mac repeated slowly, reaching for Jack’s hand and looking relieved when he took it. “And I thought, you know, maybe you wouldn’t be thrilled with me driving it?” One of those little half-smiles crossed Mac’s face. “Since I’m the guy who drove your last classic car over a cliff and all.”

“I kinda love you more, you know.” Jack grinned, and for a moment he managed to forget about this constant dread inside him that he would do something wrong and hurt Mac. “And while I admit that it was a traumatic experience…” Jack actually shuddered when he remembered the cliff incident. “You also kinda saved my life, so I guess it was worth it.” Jack shrugged as Mac slowly opened the front door. “You’re always allowed to drive her, just so you know– holy shit!” Jack swore when they walked inside and he saw that Mac’s entire house seemed to be cluttered with Jack’s stuff.

Mac laughed a little, and every time he did it seemed to get brighter. “Oh, yeah, did I forget to mention this?” He stepped carefully around several stacks of boxes, tugging Jack along with him. “Everything’s here, but it’s a little disorganized – I made the mistake of letting Bozer do some of the packing. We put most of your furniture in his old room, and all your posters and guitars you can hang wherever you want.”

Jack’s jaw was hanging open as he took in the surroundings and the amount of boxes that seemed to be _everywhere_. He had emailed Mac about his apartment and his lease, but he had kind of expected to come back and find his stuff stored away in some kind of storage and not in Mac’s house. He supposed it made sense since he had agreed to move in with Mac before they had found out about Kovacs, and they were getting married… but still, Jack’s mind was kind of blown. And then his brain registered what Mac had said about his guitars and posters, and Jack’s eyes widened even more. “What? No, Mac, you don’t have to-“ Jack started because well, this was Mac’s house and he couldn’t be fine with Jack messing it all up.

Mac turned to face him, and very gingerly settled his arms around Jack’s neck. The fresh bandages that Devers had put on brushed against his skin, but Jack could still feel Mac’s warmth through them. “Of course I do. This is your house too now, remember?” His tone was soft, and the look in his eyes was even softer, that impossible blue of his irises contrasting sharply with the black of the stitches and the purple of his bruises. “I want you to feel like you belong here. Because you do.”

Jack exhaled a shuddering breath, and gave Mac a small, shaky smile. He would love nothing more than to kiss Mac right now, but he was so scared of causing him any pain that he held himself back. He did put his hands on Mac’s waist, hesitantly and very, very gently, his touch feather light. While he was able to control himself and not lean in, his eyes were a different story, and they dropped to Mac’s lips, but only for a second before Jack forced himself to look up and focus on Mac’s beautiful eyes.

Luckily for Jack, Mac had never had a problem doing things impulsively. His smile widened when Jack’s gaze dropped to his mouth, and he closed the distance between them, pressing their mouths together in a kiss. His fingers linked themselves together behind Jack’s head, and he let out another one of those quiet, pleased sounds that Jack was learning meant Mac might be in pain, but he was happy.

Jack kissed Mac back because of course he did, closing his eyes and wondering if he would ever get used to that spark that always came with kissing Mac. Their lips were moving slowly, and the kiss stayed chaste and soft for most of the time… until Mac pressed himself a bit closer, parting his lips and slipping his tongue into Jack’s mouth, making another pleased sound, deep in his throat. His heart racing in panic, Jack let Mac kiss him like that for a short moment before turning his head and breaking the kiss, pulling away, ignoring the confused look on Mac’s face and the way his eyes had dimmed a little. “You should probably… get some rest. Need any more painkillers?”

“Um… maybe not for a while? They make me feel fuzzy and weird,” Mac said, and after a moment he stepped back, and Jack felt the loss of his embrace like a physical blow. “I don’t think there’s much food in the house, so you’re probably going to need to order something or go out and get some stuff.”

“I guess we could use more food for the next few days,” Jack admitted, doing his best to ignore how stiff the air between them suddenly was. “How about I’ll go and get some groceries? You’ll be fine on your own for a while?” Jack asked, looking at Mac, and Mac immediately nodded.

“You can go, Jack. I’ll be fine,” he said quietly, his voice a bit… dejected? But Jack gave him a small smile, and then he left, grabbing the keys to his car from the counter where he had seen them when they had walked into the house.

Once he got to the store, he tried to get everything as quickly as he could – yes, maybe he was a bit paranoid about leaving Mac all alone after what had happened. He grabbed some of his favorite food and also Mac’s – he didn’t get any beer since Mac couldn’t really drink it while he was taking painkillers, and Jack wasn’t going to be an ass and drink it in front of him. Once he had everything, he drove back home, somehow managing to get into the house while balancing the grocery bags in his arms.

Jack could hear the shower running, and figured the reason Mac hadn’t wanted to take more Vicodin was because he hadn’t wanted to get dizzy while washing off the blood and grime and hospital stink. He put all the food away, except for the supplies to make sandwiches for lunch, and he heard the water shut off. He headed to the bedroom and walked in at the same time that Mac walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, using another to dry his hair. “How was the store?” he asked, frowning when Jack just stared at him, shock and horror written in his expression. Mac had taken all the bandages off to shower, so every gash of black stitches running over his body was on full display. “Jack? What’s wrong?”

Jack swallowed harshly, clenching his hands in tight fists in an effort to keep himself together. “Nothin’, nothin’,” Jack choked out, not wanting to act like an idiot and remind Mac of all the injuries he had by staring at them like a tool. “I’m… gonna make us some sandwiches for lunch,” Jack stuttered out before turning on his heel and bolting out of the bedroom, going into the kitchen and immediately leaning against the counter to take a few deep breaths and get a fucking grip.

* * *

Mac… didn’t follow Jack out to the kitchen. He dropped the towel he had been using on his hair and stared at the spot where Jack had just been, and against his will he felt his eyes fill with tears. He had avoided looking in the mirror on his way into the shower, but he forced himself to look in the one behind the door to his room, stared hard at each line. The worst ones ran up the inside of his left thigh and over his right forearm, with thin and tick cuts alternating all over the rest of his body. Some had required stitches and others hadn’t, but they were all ugly. The one on his face was arguably the worst because of where it was, and he knew it was going to scar. He swallowed harshly and turned away, curling up on the bed and not caring how much it hurt. He let the tears spill down his cheeks and put a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob.

* * *

After a few moments Jack finally felt like he was not going to fall apart if he wasn’t entirely focused on his breathing, and that was when he heard it. It was barely audible, but Jack’s hearing was impeccable and there was no denying that the sound he had heard had sounded like a muffled sob coming from the bedroom. Panic spreading through his body, Jack raced back to the room, and his heart dropped when he saw Mac, curled up on the bed, his body shaking with sobs that he was clearly trying to hide. “Mac,” Jack gasped, running to the bed and kneeling on the mattress. “Mac, what’s wrong?” Jack asked, reaching to run his fingers through Mac’s damp hair, but the second his hand touched Mac’s head, Mac flinched away, pushing Jack’s hand away. “Mac?” Jack tried again, leaning closer but then Mac sat up and shoved Jack away with much more strength you would expect from someone with so many injuries. Injuries that Jack was desperately trying not to think about, focusing his gaze on Mac’s tear-stained face instead of the stitches.

“Go away,” Mac whispered, and those two little words were enough to rock Jack backward, because no matter what had happened between them, that had never been a request either of them had made. Mac’s breathing shuddered and he swept angrily at the tears on his face with his hands, heedless of the stitches on his jaw. He was clearly in pain, eyes fixed on a blank spot on the opposite wall. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to look at me.”

Jack felt like he had been punched, the air leaving him all at once. “Mac, what are you talking about?” Jack choked out, looking at Mac with desperate eyes, not daring move any closer or touch him, and suddenly he realized… was that his fault? Shame and guilt filled him instantly, because it looked like his attempt not to upset Mac by having a breakdown over his injuries in front of him had spectacularly backfired.

Mac let out a sound that was too hurt to be a laugh. “I’m talking about the fact that I look like Frankenstein’s fucking monster, Jack,” he snapped, but whatever anger was in him dimmed just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by resignation and sadness. “And I’m going to have the scars from this forever, so if you can’t… if you can’t deal with that, this isn’t going to work.”

Jack’s heart stopped at the suggestion that things between them could not work, but he forced himself to focus, and he quickly recovered. “Mac, I already told you. It doesn’t matter. Your scars don’t matter to me,” Jack said, wondering how the fuck everything had suddenly started going so wrong. He wasn’t even that surprised, he had known it was all too good to be true, and that he would do something to fuck it up sooner than later.

“That’s kind of hard to believe when you looked like you were going to vomit and ran out of here,” Mac said, and instead of sounding biting, he just sounded… tired. He was hunched in on himself… and Jack could see all the little holes left by the bed of nails, scattered over Mac’s shoulders and back in neat lines. “See? You’re staring again.”

“That’s because I can’t stop thinking about it!” Jack suddenly snapped, unable to hold back anymore. “And whenever I see them, I can hear your screams and your sobs, and I’m reminded that it’s all my fucking fault,” Jack said, his voice cracking. “I see in how much pain you are, and I just can’t stand it. And I didn’t… I didn’t want to bring this up because I didn’t want to upset you, but look how well that turned out.” Jack let out a humorless chuckle, sliding off the mattress and standing up, taking a few steps in the direction of the door. “But maybe you’re right, maybe I shouldn’t be here. I’ll call Bozer and ask him to stay with you until you’re better, and I’ll just… go. Since I keep making everything worse anyway.”

Mac watched him for a moment before he scrambled off the bed, probably too fast considering his injuries, and he grabbed Jack’s shoulder. “Jack, wait,” he said, and of course Jack stilled under his hand, and then Mac took it away as if he… as if he thought Jack didn’t want Mac to touch him. Mac folded his arms over his stomach instead, which hid the bruising on his abdomen, but not the angry lines slashed into his forearms and chest. “I don’t want you to leave, I… I’m tired, and everything hurts, and I just want you to act like _you_ , instead of… of whatever _this_ is.”

“How am I supposed to do that, Mac?” Jack asked, his voice breaking. “All I want is to hold you close and take all of your pain away, but I’m… I’m fucking terrified, Mac.” Jack felt his vision blur with tears, so he blinked a few times, hoping to keep them from falling. “Every time you’re close to me, I’m scared I’ll do something that will cause you more pain, and I… I can’t do that. If I hurt you…” Jack trailed off, a shiver running through his body. “You saw what happened at night back in Denver. What I did. And you… you know what I’m capable of,” Jack spit out, self-hatred audible in his voice. “Every time I touch you, I’m worried I will break you.”

Mac’s eyes searched Jack’s face, and they were red from crying, but the tears had stopped falling down his cheeks. “Jack, you had a nightmare where I _died_ ,” he said, tone unbelievably gentle. “It’s not surprising at all that you’d have a violent reaction. You didn’t mean to hurt me – you’d never hurt me on purpose.” He was quiet for a moment, and took a step closer. “Does this have something to do with what you did to Kovacs?”

“I didn’t even blink,” Jack said quietly as if he was talking to himself before looking into Mac’s eyes. “You wanna know what I did?” Jack asked, the tone of his voice getting harder, matching his eyes. “I shot him, that much you know. What you don’t know is that I put two bullets in his head. And then two more in his heart, just to make sure he wouldn’t be getting up this time as well,” Jack said darkly. “And I didn’t even blink. Didn’t think. I just did it and I don’t regret it even for one fucking second.” Jack swallowed down before exhaling shakily. “And nightmare or not… you shouldn’t have to be worried about me attacking you in the middle of night. That’s not fair to you.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Mac said, and took one last step closer, so when Jack looked at him they were eye to eye. “You didn’t mean to do it and I forgave you. And if you think I’m afraid of you or something because of what you did to Kovacs, you’re wrong. He did _this_ to me, remember? It’s not like I’m upset that he’s dead, not counting all the other horrible shit he pulled, all the innocent people he killed.” Mac let his arms fall to his sides and exhaled, just as shakily as Jack. “So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Jack whispered, looking at Mac sadly. Slowly, he lifted his hand that was shaking, and hesitantly, he put it on Mac’s neck, his thumb gently rubbing Mac’s jaw. “I don’t trust myself around you,” Jack said quietly, his chest tightening painfully. “If I… if I did anything to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

Mac’s fingers hooked around Jack’s wrist and hung on, tilting his head into Jack’s touch. “I trust you,” he said, and his free hand hesitated for only a second before he slid it over Jack’s ribs, holding on to his side. “And if you… if you really don’t have a problem with… with all the stitches and scars and stuff…”

“I really don’t, Mac.” Jack looked at Mac, hoping Mac believed him. “I wouldn’t lie to you. But-“ Before Jack could say anything else, Mac leaned in, pressing their lips together and cutting Jack off. He let go off Jack’s wrist and put his hand on Jack’s shoulder while his other hand slid lower to grip his hip. After a moment, once Jack didn’t step back, Mac nipped on Jack’s bottom lip and slid his tongue into his mouth, his grip on Jack tightening.

Jack’s hand stayed on Mac’s neck, and the other one went to Mac’s waist, because he knew that was a safe spot. He didn’t squeeze or grasp too tightly, but he did kiss Mac back, and eventually the hand on his neck wandered cautiously into his hair. After a minute Mac broke the kiss, staring into Jack’s eyes when they fluttered open again. “Jack, I… I want you.”

Jack’s hands kind of spasmed, and he took a shuddering breath. “Mac, you… you just said you’re tired and that everything hurts,” he whispered, his gaze shifting between Mac’s eyes and his lips. “What if… what if I…” Jack trailed off, not even wanting to finish the sentence.

“I’m going to be tired and thing are going to hurt for a while,” Mac said, and he pressed himself against Jack’s body, and that was when Jack remembered that Mac was naked save for the towel hanging around his hips. “I doubt that _not_ having sex is going to make me heal any faster. And I… I love you, Jack. You won’t hurt me.”

“I love you too,” Jack whispered, kissing Mac’s cheek, his jaw, the corner of his lips. He still had his fingers tangled in Mac’s hair and his other hand gripped Mac’s waist a little tighter. “If I do anything… or you’re in too much pain…” Jack said against Mac’s lips, his heart pounding like crazy.

“I’ll tell you,” Mac assured him, a little smile spreading under the touch of Jack’s mouth. He shifted, taking his hand off Jack’s side – but before Jack could question why, Mac was dropping the towel from around his waist and kicking it aside. He pressed another kiss to Jack’s lips, both hands coming up to frame his face. “Take me to bed?”

Usually, Jack would have just picked him up and carried him, but he didn’t want to risk it with Mac’s injuries. Plus they were already in the bedroom, and Mac’s bed… _their_ bed wasn’t far, so Jack slowly started backing Mac up until they reached the bed, and then Jack gently pushed Mac down, staring down at him for a moment. “You’re so beautiful,” Jack breathed out because that was the truth – the stitches and bruises didn’t matter, Mac was still gorgeous and out of this world.

Mac smiled again, his eyes flicking away as a blush blossomed on his cheeks. “Come here, you big sap,” he said, and grabbed the front of Jack’s shirt, pulling him down on the bed next to him. He wriggled onto his side and immediately reconnected them at the mouth, long fingers wandering low to curve over Jack’s hip. The kiss deepened almost instantly, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths after months of being apart, and Jack couldn’t get enough. The longer he kissed Mac, the less he worried about hurting him, and when he nipped on Mac’s bottom lip, Mac let out a quiet whimper that was clearly a sound of pleasure and not pain. After a moment Mac’s hands slid to Jack’s chest, slipping under the t-shirt and running up his abs, and the message was quite clear here.

Jack broke the kiss so he could pull his shirt off, tossing it over his shoulder on to the floor. He settled his hand on Mac’s side, between rows of stitches, and made a wounded sound when Mac rolled Jack on his back and climbed on top of him. He settled down and kissed Jack again, and now that they were pressed together Jack could feel the rough texture of the sutures against his skin. The chain with his dog tags and the ring was still around his neck, but Jack barely noticed, too focused on Mac’s completely naked body on top of him. Even though he had only seen Mac’s bare back once since they had gotten home, Jack remembered exactly where the puncture marks from the spikes were, so he settled his hands on Mac’s lower back, one hand sliding lower to grope Mac’s ass.

Mac sucked in a sharp breath when Jack’s hand squeezed his ass cheek, and his hips gave a little involuntary twitch down into Jack’s. He broke away to pant for breath against Jack’s cheek, hands sliding down from his shoulders to rest against his side. “I want you inside me,” he said, as casually as if they were talking about the weather, “but I’m not sure how we’re going to do that without me bleeding everywhere, as gross as that sounds.”

Jack blinked up at him a few times, his both hands now on Mac’s ass, fingers digging in and absently massaging his ass, driving Mac completely insane judging by the way his breath hitched. “Are you expecting _me_ to figure somethin’ out?” Jack asked, giving Mac a shocked look. “Baby, you’re the brains here, my job is to kick ass and look pretty while doin’ it.”

Mac shuddered against Jack which told him he was doing something right. “You always look pretty,” he said, which got a laugh out of Jack, and then Mac was smacking a kiss to his cheek and wriggling away from his to sit up, and gestured for Jack to do the same thing. Then he turned around and sat in Jack’s lap, with his marked-up back pressed to Jack’s chest. “Like this, maybe?” he asked, leaning his head on Jack’s shoulder and looking at him with those luminous eyes, blown nearly black with lust. “Keeps the pressure off my leg.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Jack muttered, wrapping a gentle arm around Mac, avoiding the stitches. Leaning over Mac’s shoulder, he pressed a kiss to his lips before mouthing at his jaw and reaching his neck where Jack paused to suck a bruise into Mac’s skin. Mac moaned softly, throwing his head back, and Jack bit him a little harder, smiling against Mac’s skin at the sound he made. Jack had heard Mac loud and clear when he had said he wanted Jack inside him, but Jack wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t tease and draw it out a little – after all, it had been so long and Jack had _missed_ Mac, he had missed the taste of his skin, and making him fall apart. “Before we get to that, though…” Jack muttered with a grin, trailing his lips to Mac’s ear, and nipping on his earlobe. As gently as he could, he moved Mac and laid him down on his back before looming over him. Usually, he would just lie on top of him, but he couldn’t exactly do that now – instead, Jack placed most of his weight on the mattress next to Mac, and leaned over to attach his lips to the birthmark on Mac’s neck, and Mac let out this high pitched sound when Jack started sucking a bruise, his teeth grazing Mac’s skin. Jack was already painfully hard in his jeans, but it didn’t matter for now – all he wanted was to make Mac keep letting out these beautiful sounds.

“Shit, Jack,” Mac said, breathless with want, the barest hint of a whine to his voice – exactly like he should sound, no pain in sight. Jack trailed his lips lower, sucking another bruise into the skin where Mac’s neck met his shoulder before going lower still, teeth craping over Mac’s collarbone and making him arch a little off the mattress. Now, this was the part where things got more complicated. There was a lot of stuff that Jack had to avoid, but it was all pretty easy to see, which was the one benefit of stitches – they were hard to miss. So he skirted around them, finding patches of unmarked skin and teasing those with his lips and tongue, careful not to bite, swelling wouldn’t help with healing. One of Mac’s hands was tangled in the sheets near his hop, and the other one kept skating over Jack’s shoulders and back, digging in when he did something that felt particularly good.

Moving lower, Jack started sucking a bruise into Mac’s hip since there weren’t any stitches near it. Mac’s fingers squeezed Jack’s shoulder, and he groaned, his body twitching a little under Jack’s lips. Once Jack was satisfied with the bruise, he gently spread Mac’s legs, careful to avoid the long cut on his thigh, and gingerly settled between his legs, licking over the head of Mac’s cock before taking it into his mouth, sucking as he wrapped his hand around the base. Mac let out a moan that broke at the end, staring down at Jack for a moment before he looked away. He fixed his gaze on the ceiling instead, his hand still curved around Jack’s shoulder, squeezing when Jack sank lower on his cock, removing his hand in favor of taking more in his mouth. It was clear that Mac was trying desperately not to move his hips, but they still twitched involuntarily into Jack’s throat.

Jack hummed around Mac’s cock, sinking lower until the head hit the back of his throat. He didn’t mind Mac’s hips twitching, and he loved how wrecked Mac already sounded, and he would have smirked if he could. Moving his hand, he squeezing Mac’s hips teasingly before swallowing around Mac’s cock, his throat fluttering, and Mac whined, his hips thrusting up a bit harder, and Jack chuckled around his cock.

“Jack, baby, come here,” Mac gasped out, and Jack assumed it was because he couldn’t take it anymore, not without coming down Jack’s throat, and as lovely as that idea was, it wasn’t what Mac wanted. He made grabby hands in Jack’s direction, and Jack obliged him, pulling off his cock and crawling up to kiss him, all without putting his weight on Mac’s body. The kiss was dirty and messy, and Jack had to force himself to remember not to just drop down on Mac and grind against him. After a moment, Mac’s hands slid down Jack’s chest, his fingers hooking on the waistband of his jeans before they quickly undid the button and the zipper, his hand sneaking in to press against Jack’s hard cock through his underwear.

Jack’s hips bucked under Mac’s touch, a groan resonating against Mac’s lips. Mac seemed to be pouring everything he had into the kiss while he got Jack’s jeans down over his hips, and then they broke apart so Jack could get rid of his boots and pants and underwear. Now that they were both naked, Mac just stopped, looking and Jack and taking him in, and a ridiculous grin spread on his face. “I love you so much,” he said, before he pulled Jack in for another kiss with one hand, the other wrapping around his cock and stroking lazily.

Jack made this wounded sound, whining into Mac’s mouth, his hips thrusting into Mac’s hand. It wasn’t easy, holding himself up like that so that his body wouldn’t press Mac down even a little, but Jack was determined and somehow he managed. As Mac kept stroking him slowly, Jack broke the kiss to pant into Mac’s neck, slowly losing his mind. “God, I… I missed you so much, baby,” Jack whined when Mac teasingly rubbed his thumb against the head of Jack’s cock.

Mac nuzzled Jack’s stubbly cheek, pressing a kiss to his skin. His free hand flopped in the direction of the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and grabbing the lube. He gave Jack’s cock a parting stroke and held up the lube in front of Jack’s face, grinning when he snatched it out of Mac’s hand. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say my charming personality isn’t the only thing you missed,” he teased, sucking in a sharp breath when Jack’s newly lubed finger rubbed against his hole in slow circles.

“Mhm, no,” Jack muttered, mouthing at Mac’s jaw and pushing his finger inside him, swallowing Mac’s gasp when he crashed their lips together. “Dreamed about that body of yours almost every night,” Jack mumbled against Mac’s lips, pushing his finger back and forth. It was getting difficult, balancing on one forearem while fingering Mac open and trying not to put any weight on him, so after a moment Jack moved, lying on his side right next to Mac and attaching his lips to his neck while adding a second finger.

Mac’s hand came up to claw at Jack’s side, gripping hard enough to leave bruises over his ribs – and then apparently Mac had an idea because he rolled over on to his side, facing away from Jack, who got the picture immediately, sliding those two fingers back inside him at a much more natural angle and scissoring them apart. His touch hit deeper this way, and Jack could still suck marks into Mac’s skin while he opened him up, making this a whole lot easier, and it wouldn’t leave Jack with carpal tunnel from having his wrist bent at such an odd angle.

Mac moaned loudly when Jack’s fingers brushed against his prostate, and Jack nudged the same spot a few times, making Mac let out a strangled shout, his hands tightening around the bedsheets. Biting down on Mac’s shoulder, Jack added a third finger, spreading them a little, kind of tempted to make him come like that – he had done it before, and he knew exactly how to touch Mac to make him come like that. But that wasn’t what Mac wanted, and Jack also needed to be as close to Mac as possible, and while usually they could go multiple times, this time Mac’s condition didn’t really allow that. Pushing his fingers deeper, Jack bit Mac again, and Mac pushed back against his fingers, panting heavily. “Jack, please, please.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” Jack muttered against his skin, pulling his fingers out and shivering when Mac whined at the loss. “You want it like this?” Jack asked, because this hadn’t been their original plan, but Mac was nodding and reaching back to grasp at Jack’s hip to try and pull him closer, so he figured that was a yes. Jack lubed himself up with the lightest touch possible, the tension under his skin already close to breaking, and then he was slowly, carefully pushing inside Mac.

Mac was so hot and tight around him that once he bottomed out, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face to the back of Mac’s neck and breathing in deeply a few times, trying to get his shit together. He had his one arm wrapped around Mac’s middle, not touching any of the stitches, and he could feel Mac shivering against him. “You… you can move, Jack,” Mac gasped after a moment, pressing himself against Jack.

Jack found himself blinking back tears, just as breathless as Mac was and trying desperately not to let his emotions overwhelm him. He pulled back a little and thrusted back in, deliberately cautious for the first few motions until Mac was practically writhing in his hold for more; only then did Jack feel comfortable putting a little more strength behind his thrusts, and he knew when he grazed Mac’s prostate because he jolted and whimpered, his hand locking around Jack’s against his stomach.

Gripping Mac’s hand tightly, Jack pushed himself up a little for better leverage, and kept thrusting into Mac, harder than before, but still lighter than he usually would have. He didn’t bother holding back the tears anymore, and let them roll down his cheeks, burying his face in Mac’s hair, and he could already tell he was close, he couldn’t help it, it had been too long. But no matter what, Jack was determined to make Mac come first, so he pressed himself impossibly closer, thrusting even faster. And it only took a few more thrusts for Mac to start shaking apart in Jack’s embrace, a low, broken sound falling from his lips as he came, all over himself and their joined hands. He went impossibly tight around Jack and then Jack was coming too, unable to muffle the sob that escaped him as he did so, spilling inside Mac and pulling him as close as he dared.

Once his hips stilled, Jack collapsed on the mattress, his face pressed against Mac’s hair. He was completetly out of breath, and the tears were still falling, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. He hoped Mac didn’t notice, but with the way his body was shaking with silent sobs, he had a feeling it was not going to happen.

Mac did notice, because of course he did, and he wiped their hands off on the sheets (they needed to be changed anyway) before he rolled over, suppressing a wince when Jack slid out of him, and pulled him into a hug, heedless of the stitches. “Shhh, Jack, it’s okay,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m right here, it’s okay.”

And Jack was helpless to do anything else but press his face into Mac’s neck and continue crying, gripping Mac’s waist tightly. Everyting was coming out of him now, how much he had been scared of hurting Mac, how he had thought he was going to lose him after getting back, how much he loved him, and how much he had missed him. “Mac,” Jack half-whimpered, half-sobbed, not able to get a grip.

Mac just held him tighter, re-positioning his arm so it didn’t put strain on the stitches running up to his elbow. “I know,” he said, because he probably did – he knew how Jack felt now, but also had felt some of the same things, Jack realized. He loved Jack, he had missed Jack, and there had been a moment where he had thought their whole relationship might fall apart. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Eventually, Jack stopped shaking so violently, his sobs subsiding until he was finally able to catch his breath. “I love you so much,” Jack whispered into Mac’s neck, his voice muffled and barely audible. “And I really… I really thought I wouldn’t get to have this again. Thought this mission cost me everything.”

Mac rubbed Jack’s back comfortingly, burying a smile in the top of Jack’s head. “No way. Did you really think you’d get rid of me that easily?” Now that Jack had stopped shaking, Mac brought his hand around to touch his cheek, waiting until Jack looked at him to lean in for a short, sweet kiss. “I love you, Jack.”

And Mac was smiling, his blue eyes incredibly bright and shining with happiness, but even despite that, Jack had to make sure he was okay. “You alright?” he asked quietly, touching Mac’s face gently with his hand. “How are the stitches?”

“I’m okay, I think,” Mac replied, glancing down at his arm, then lower to his thigh. Everything in between those two appeared to be intact as well. “I mean, I should probably take another shower once I can remember how to move, but other than that I’m fine.”

Reaching with his hand, Jack brushed the hair out of Mac’s eyes, the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile at how fluffy and messy Mac’s hair was. “I’m sorry. For being an idiot before,” Jack murmured, leaning in, his lips brushing against Mac’s in a feather light kiss.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t much better,” Mac said, and when Jack made a questioning sound he smiled a little, hand cupping the side of Jack’s neck, thumb brushing against his jaw. “I shouldn’t have thought you were that shallow, that you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore because I’m going to look different.”

“Good to see some things didn’t change.” Jack pressed a kiss to Mac’s cheek, and he grinned when Mac arched his eyebrow in question. “We’re both still kinda dumb sometimes.”

Mac laughed, and this time, much to Jack’s delight, it was his real laugh, clear and joyous. “We really are – but do you know what’s awesome about that?” When Jack shook his head, Mac grinned back at him, knocking their foreheads together. “We get to be dumb with each other forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed the fic ♥


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